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        It’s around noon when Lan Xinmiao sways closer to Lan Wangji and murmurs: “This is not the shortest route to Qishan, they are trying to avoid more populated areas of Yunmeng.”

        Lan Wangji is under no illusion that a rescue by the Jiangs is possible, not after they didn’t respond to the call for aid Xichen had sent, but Xinmiao must still cling to hope. Either they are already engaged by the Wen in their territory or they decided not to honour the alliance with the Lan. And so he says nothing, concentrating on breathing and circulating the dregs of spiritual energy that he still has.

        Mere days ago Lan Wangji lived a charmed life. As the omega brother of sect leader Lan he spent his days training with the sword, playing his guqin, and helping his sect with chores appropriate for a young unmated omega. He was praised throughout the cultivation world for his beauty, his impeccable manners, and his many talents. He knew no strife, no hunger, no real pain. And look at him now. There’s blood and dirt and sweat on his robes because there’s only so much the charms sewn into them can repel. There’s blood in his hair, too. There are shackles on his hands and legs. His ribs are bruised, possibly fractured, and he cannot heal them, because whatever spiritual energy he has, he uses to walk on a broken leg. With his omega sect brothers and sisters they are spoils of war, being herded to Qishan like cattle, and he cannot do anything about it. He would be angry at himself, if he weren’t so exhausted and in such pain that it left no space to feel anything else.

        The Lan were too arrogant, too sure that their wards would hold. And when the wards started to crack under the fiery assault, it was too late to evacuate everyone. They managed to get the children out, at least he hoped so, but when young omegas, Lan Wangji among them, were two-thirds down the mountain, their burning home behind them, their escape route was cut off by a troop of Wen. They would have broken through, if another troop led by Wen Xu had not caught up to them. Lan Wangji carefully doesn’t think about what that meant for the situation up in Cloud Recesses.

        Their alpha escorts were slain first. Then the Wen proceeded to disarm any omegas that had swords, careful, as Wen Xu put it, not to damage the goods. Lan Wangji was the last one standing, but in the end it didn’t matter. His sword was still taken from him. He was too weak to protect his home, his people, and even himself.

        Lan Wangji knows what awaits them in Qishan. His shidis and shimeis will be gifted to the favoured Wen officials as second mates or concubines, or, if they are even more unfortunate, they will be given to the brothels that serve Wen soldiers. They will never see Gusu, they will never see their families, and their lives will depend on the whims of their Wen masters. As for himself, even as ignorant about politics as he is, he understands that he will be used in a way that will humiliate the Lan sect the most. The way Wen Xu talked while kicking Lan Wangji in the ribs made that abundantly clear.

        The Wen leader raises his hand and the group stops. He calls his deputy to him and they pull out a  map. Some of the omegas sit where they stand, in the dirt of the road. Lan Wangji doesn’t. If he sat down now, he would have trouble standing back up.

“There’s no sun,” Xinmiao whispers. She’s frowning. “And there is no wind.”

        Lan Wangji looks around discreetly. It has been foggy and wet since dawn, but the fog has gotten worse since, cold, dense and swirling. The Wen soldiers seem nervous. They are gripping their swords and bows.

“They veered too far west. That’s not Yunmeng,” Lan Wangji realises.

        There’s a whistle of an arrow in the air and the Wen leader goes down.  Within moments they are surrounded by black-clad cultivators and a fight breaks out. The only thing Lan Wangji can do is make other omegas huddle together and try to keep them out of the path of the blades. They cannot run, not battered and chained as they are, not when  they don’t know what else hides in the fog.

        And then it’s over, as abruptly as it started, Wen blood seeping into the ground.

        This is not a rescue.

*

        The Yiling Wei sect is both a popular topic of gossip in the cultivation world and a scary story parents use to reign their children in. Twenty-five years ago the first rumors appeared about strange happenings in the Burial Mounds, an old battlefield so saturated with resentful energy that whoever entered it was never seen or heard from again. Until the Yiling Patriarch walked out of the Burial Mounds one unremarkable morning, wielding the power of the dead, and announced the creation of the Yiling Wei sect.

        The sects were in an uproar. Some predicted that Yiling Wei wouldn’t last a year. It would descend into madness and get torn apart by ghosts and fierce corpses they tried to reign over. Others, out of fear or jealousy, insisted that it was the duty of the righteous cultivators to eradicate the demonic sect, but no one could breach the wards around the Burial Mounds. Over the years the sect grew and so did its territory – they claimed Yiling and villages around it as well as some lands on the outskirts of Qishan. And while it was still shunned by the major sects and was particularly hostile towards the Yunmeng Jiang, it began trading with some of the minor sects.

        The Yiling Wei sect was not discussed openly in the Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji never felt any particular interest to learn more about it, not until the news about the Yiling Patriarch’s death reached the Lan and it was all everyone talked about. Lan Wangji was fifteen years old at the time. The Patriarch travelled to one of the minor sects to sign a new trade agreement and he was ambushed and killed by several high ranking cultivators. “That’s the end of it,” everyone said, and some sects even threw feasts to celebrate the heroes who slayed the Yiling Patriarch.

        But the wards of the Burial Mounds held firm and not a week later the first of the cultivators who participated in the ambush met a gruesome end. And then another. And another. If a sect tried to shield its member all those who drew swords were slaughtered. Those who tried to run, couldn’t run fast enough. Jin Guangshan, who at first lauded Jin Zixun’s participation in the ambush far and wide, threw him out of Lanling and declared that the Jin condemned such underhanded behaviour. The very same night Jin Zixun was found in his room at an inn, drowned in the bathtub.

        After the last participant of the ambush had been torn apart by demonic dogs, the Yiling Wei proclaimed that they had a new sect leader. The new Yiling Patriarch took up the mantle of his father.

        Yiling Wei remained elusive and secretive. Any cultivator that ventured into their territory without invitation was met with steel and dark spells.

        Lan Wangji frantically tries to remember everything that he knows about the Yiling Wei, but there’s not a lot known and the gossip is about as reliable a source of information as ghost stories told around the fire.

         A couple of Yiling Wei cultivators guard the Lan omegas, swords drawn, while the rest of them drag the bodies of Wen soldiers to a pile. They gather and add some wood, but when one of them sets the fire, it’s immediately clear that it is not natural. The flames are green and vicious, and they burn the bodies faster than Lan Wangji has thought possible. There’s almost no smoke.

“Well, that’s not what I expected when I started the patrol today,” a tall alpha cultivator places her hands on her hips and surveys the Lan omegas. She must be the leader of this group, her demeanour makes it clear, even if her robes bear no sign of rank.

“What should we do with them?” someone asks.

        The leader takes a moment to think it over. Lan Wangji readies himself to plead for mercy, there’s no place for pride where lives are at stake.

“Let’s bring them back to the Burial Mounds, see what the Patriarch has to say about it.”

        Some of the youngest omegas start crying and whatever words Lan Wangji wants to say get stuck in his throat.

*

        The seat of the Yiling Wei sect is partially carved in the mountain itself, but Lan Wangji barely takes in any details, still reeling from crossing the Burial Mound wards. It felt like a thousand tiny hooks of resentful energy tearing at his soul. And that was after they were allowed entry. He imagines that otherwise the energy would just rip them apart like they were nothing.

        The Lan are brought to a big empty chamber. It doesn’t look like a dungeon, more like an unused storage space, but it’s chilly and it has no windows, and Lan Wangji thinks they must be underground now. There are light talismans placed on the walls, but they burn low enough that the room remains dim. Two Wei cultivators remain as sentries near the door, but other than that the Lan are left alone.

         Lan Xinmiao and Hau Junyu help Lan Wangji sit down. He would have preferred to remain standing, but there’s no telling how long they will wait here and he needs to conserve his strength. He eyes the guards, even though he knows it’s futile. He’s in no shape to try anything, and even if he managed to get a sword off one of them, the idea of fighting their way out of the Burial Mounds is laughable. They are all hurt and tired and scared, and a lot of them haven’t held a sword since their junior lessons.

        After a while the alpha commander comes back with two other cultivators, both alphas as well. The first of the newcomers is also a woman, petite in stature and with her lips pressed into a tight line. The second is a man. He’s dressed in a similar fashion as the women, but something about him makes Lan Wangji immediately wary and he trusts his instincts.

“Who among you is of the highest rank?” asks the new alpha.

        Xinmiao moves to step forward, but Lan Wangji stops her with a touch on her arm. Whatever this is about, he won’t hide behind his cousin.

“I am,” he responds and allows Xinmiao to help him stand up. He ignores the pain in his leg and straightens to his full height. “I am Lan Wangji, brother of sect leader Lan.”

        The alpha tilts his head, his full attention on Lan Wangji. There is a change in the air, but Lan Wangji is used to alphas trying to act intimidating and meets his gaze evenly. The alpha’s eyes are startlingly light, almost silver.

“Welcome to the Burial Mounds, second young master Lan,” he drawls and offers a little sarcastic bow.

“So this is how it’s going to go, all of you will be taken to the healers now, because you look pretty banged up. And after that, young master Lan and I are going to have a little chat.”

        He turns to the smaller woman.

“Have him sent to my office once you’re done, daifu.”

“Yes, Patriarch.”

        She says it with very little reverence as if it’s something she utters daily. Lan Wangji is very grateful for how impassive his face appears.

*

The Lan sect has forty-three separate rules pertaining to clothing and adornment and Lan Wangji has been diligently following all of them. He has never given them much thought though because he actually likes the plain white disciple robes. They are well made and fit well with the calm and serene atmosphere of the Cloud Recesses. The embroidered talismans ensure that the delicate silks repel dirt and withstand physical activities like sword training.

        There are sturdier robes for actual night hunting and more elaborate ones for different festivals during the year, receiving guests, and visits to the allied sects. Even for such occasions Lan Wangji has tended to gravitate towards simplicity. There are allowances for adult unmarried omegas, and jewellers in Cayi Town make good money on hair pins, bracelets, and necklaces. Lan Wangji has only ever worn a simple jade yaopei that previously belonged to his mother and a similarly unostentatious guan befitting his status in the sect.

        He wishes now for his most intricate over-robe which he could wear like armour. He has never felt so underdressed.

        After the Yiling Laozu sweeps out of the room, the Lan are unshackled and taken in a flurry of activity to the healers’ wing. Lan Wangji is momentarily alarmed that the alpha doctor would tend to the omegas – a thing unheard of in the Lan sect – but she only assesses their general state and decides the order of treatment by the severity of their condition. Lan Wangji tries to say that he is fine waiting and others should go first, but she gives him a decidedly unimpressed look and sends him in with the first group.

That is how he finds himself in a room with an elderly omega doctor or a nurse, he wasn’t sure, who immediately tells him to sit on a cot and disrobe, and sends her assistant to fetch a wheelchair. She has a self-assured manner that reminds him of the Lan doctors and that makes him relax a little. Only to tense up a moment later, because she starts poking and prodding him, and tutting at his cuts and bruises, and Lan Wangji has always hated having strangers in his personal space, even the healers.

        His leg is put in a splint, his other wounds are cleaned and bandaged, his bruised ribs, which cause the doctor to scowl with displeasure as if they personally offend her, are slathered with an herbal ointment. He is told that when his spiritual energy is replenished he can meditate and circulate it lightly, but that he shouldn’t concentrate on his leg because too fast healing of a broken bone could make it brittle. He is given simple patient garments to wear, white and gone soft with use. The doctor’s assistant brings in a bucket of water and Lan Wangji has a chance to wash his face before he is ordered to sit in the wheelchair.

        The assistant, a timid omega, stronger than his willowy looks would suggest, pushes Lan Wangji’s chair through dark corridors, even deeper into the mountain. At least Lan Wangji thinks so. He wonders if the light talismans attached to the walls are a little too dim on purpose. He should pay attention to the route, to the rooms and the few people they are passing, but all he can think of is that he is going to talk to the Yiling Patriarch clad in little more than night clothes. He still has his forehead ribbon, but even his family hasn’t seen him in such a state of undress since he was a child who still needed help dressing. Lan Xinmiao pulled his hair into a tight braid the first night on the road, but he is under no illusion that she managed to get all the dirt and dried blood out of it.

        Maybe it is silly of Lan Wangji to think about his appearance in a moment like this. He was a captive of the Wen and now he’s a captive of another enemy sect. There were no open hostilities between Gusu Lan and Yiling Wei in the past, as they share no borders, but the disapproval of the righteous sect towards demonic cultivators was loud and clear and the Lan are, or maybe were, allied with the Jiang. His fate is no less uncertain than it was this morning.

        He has no power here. No leverage. He knows not what is left of his home and of his people, at least the ones that aren’t here with him. And those that are here with him… he cannot protect.

        For a brief moment Lan Wangji feels a scorching anger at the situation, at himself, and at his upbringing. For a high-born omega their home was expected to be their domain. As such, Lan Wangji was being discouraged from taking too much interest in politics and truth be told he has been fine with that. He was content to concentrate on his cultivation and ignore politics. But now? Now he would give a lot to know a bit more about the Yiling Wei and what they are like and what could convince them to negotiate with the Lan the return of the omegas to their sect.

        They stop before an ornate door and Lan Wangji takes a few slow deep breaths to calm himself down while the assistant announces their arrival to the Patriarch.

        The room looks like a typical sect leader’s office, except messier. There are books and scrolls everywhere, including some spots on the floor. It’s the first room here with natural light, but the windows are in the back and Lan Wangji can only see the sky through them. The Patriarch sits at an elegant tea table, on a raised platform, while two servants are busy preparing tea and gathering the papers spilling from the table to put them... with all the other papers, presumably.

        The assistant wheels Lan Wangji over and it turns out that the table has been placed in such a way near the edge of the platform that Lan Wangji does not have to move from the wheelchair. He would do it and he would suffer through it, if necessary, but he’s just now starting to feel just how much walking on a broken leg cost him. As it is, he will have to lean a bit to reach, if he’s offered tea, but nothing unseemly.

        The Patriarch dismisses the servants.

“A-Ning, you can go too, go back and help your sister.”

        The assistant – A-Ning – frowns a little at the notion of leaving an unmated omega from a different sect with his alpha sect leader, but he nods and leaves as well. It is terribly casual, the nod, and Lan Wangji wonders what is the relationship between A-Ning and the Patriarch.

        And then they are alone.

        The Patriarch is silent. He pushes a teacup towards Lan Wangji and then just looks at him with those unnerving silver eyes as if Lan Wangji was a puzzle to figure out.

        Just as before, Lan Wangji meets his gaze evenly. Maybe he should play at being a demure omega, but he has never been any good at pretending to be something he’s not. The Lan sect presented their Second Young Master to the world as the perfect omega but, in the privacy of Cloud Recesses, Wangji’s teachers often despaired at his headstrong personality.

        No one has ever intimidated Lan Wangji with silence. He takes the opportunity to regard the Yiling Patriarch in turn. The Patriarch is young. It’s always a little difficult to tell with the cultivators, but Lan Wangji thinks he might be around his age. And that means that he was a mere youth when he avenged his father and struck terror in the hearts of men for the first time. It’s a disconcerting thought. He is objectively attractive, tall and lean. He is in the same dark robes that Lan Wangji saw him in previously, casual and practical, and while he sits with his back straight there is a slight tension in his arms, like he’s unaccustomed to it. Lan Wangji dismisses that last observation as absurd, because how else could he sit.

“I have to admit,” begins the Patriarch. “We are not used to hosting such distinguished guests.”

        And there it is again, this drawl, this dismissive tone, and Lan Wangji has to stop himself from bristling. He won’t let the Patriarch get a rise out of him.

“The Lan omegas are truly well bred,” the Patriarch remarks idly. He looks for Lan Wangji’s reaction, he might as well try to prick him with needles, and Lan Wangji gives him none.

“You’re not much of a conversationalist, are you?”

        That does not require an answer.

“Very well, I will start then. Yiling might be out of the way and we do keep to ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get any news. For example, recently I heard that the Wen attack on the Cloud Recesses had been repelled. Or rather, they took the mountain initially, but the Lan managed to regroup and drive them away for now.”

        Lan Wangji gasps against his will and the Patriarch raises one brow but doesn’t comment.

“A day later, the Wen attacked Lotus Pier. It was a miscalculation, splitting their forces like that. But Yunmeng is in chaos now and Lotus Pier burned. We don’t know who lived, who died, or who’s in charge of the Jiang cultivators now.”

        Lan Wangji desperately wants to ask if he knows who among the Lan lived. He says nothing.

“I don’t want to bore you with details. Us? We were minding our own business. The Wen have been testing our defences for years now. They were not successful and they won’t be. However it became clear that the so-called great sects are no longer able to keep the Wen in check. Aren’t you curious why I’m telling you all of this, young master Lan?”

        Lan Wangji nods.

        The Patriarch grins, all teeth.

“It’s because I believe ours is a very auspicious meeting. The sects will have to band together against the Wen, out of sheer self-defence. You’ve been appeasing them for years and years, and they have only grown bolder. Wen Ruohan not only fashions himself the leader of the cultivation world, he wants to see everyone in his colours and on their knees for him.”

        There is hatred and disgust in the Patriarch’s voice and Lan Wangji feels it, too.

“Yiling Wei wants to join this fight, but to do that we need an alliance with one of the great sects and we’re not exactly on great terms. After all is said and done, the only alliance the sects honour is a blood alliance. So. Your arrival within our borders was an unexpected gift.”

        Lan Wangji feels suddenly light-headed.

“I have a… proposal for you. I will get all your sect brothers and sisters safely back to Gusu and in exchange you will become my mate.”

        Lan Wangji tries to say something, but can’t push a single word out of his throat.

        The Patriarch refills their cups.

“Drink your tea.”

        Lan Wangji drinks, suddenly he’s parched. He finds his words.

“What if I refuse?”

“As I mentioned, we are not used to hosting and truly, we have no taste for it in the current circumstances. So, if you refuse, we will escort you lot to the border and wish you all the best.”

        For a brief moment Lan Wangji tastes freedom on his tongue, until he understands the implications. Even if they don’t stumble upon the Wen on the road, there’s no shortage of unscrupulous people between here and Gusu who would take advantage of unmated defenceless omegas. And the Lan omegas are mostly defenceless. They have no food or camping equipment, no money and no weapons. And even if they had weapons, a lot of them cannot fight – either because they are wounded and exhausted or they stopped their sword training after the introductory classes. In the Gusu Lan, the sword path is open to everyone, but by the time Wangji’s age mates were sixteen, there were only three omegas in the sword class.

        Lan Wangji is fairly confident that he would make it back to Gusu, even without a sword and with a broken leg, but it would be because of the sacrifices his sect’s brothers and sisters would make for him on the way as the sect leader’s brother. And so, even if this were not a cruel bluff and the Yiling Patriarch would really let them go, Lan Wangji could not accept it.

“You don’t have to answer now,” says the Yiling Patriarch and the look in his eyes might be pity. “Give me your answer tomorrow.”

        He sketches a quick talisman in the air and it summons A-Ning so quickly that Lan Wangji suspects he did not go back to the infirmary.

        A-Ning – Wen Qionglin, as Lan Wangji finds out when he gathers his thoughts enough to ask, and isn’t that something to think about – brings Lan Wangji to what could only be a guest room. There is a bed, a dresser, and a small table surrounded by cushions. There’s also a small bathing area separated by a painted folding screen. There are no windows, but instead of the glowing talismans he saw in the corridors there are two framed paintings showing a spring landscape and the warm talisman light is filtering to the room through the silk. It is ingenious and makes the space feel cozy rather than cave-like. Lan Wangji is grudgingly impressed.

        Someone must have prepared this room just moments before because there’s a bowl of fruit on the table and lit incense. The bathtub is filled with water and there are clean towels, bath beans and hair oils laid out on a small shelf. Wen Qionglin offers his help with bathing and Lan Wangji accepts with only a little reluctance. He doesn’t think he could manage by himself and even with Wen Qionglin it turns out to be a bit of an ordeal. Lan Wangji undresses and then they have to figure out how to lower him down into the tub without getting his broken leg wet. Lan Wangji scrubs himself down, luxuriating in the feeling of warm water on his skin, while Wen Qionglin washes his hair. Getting out of the tub is terribly undignified.

        After the bath and after Wen Qionglin takes half a shi to dry and comb Lan Wangji’s hair, he shows Lan Wangji how he can move the chair himself and how to dim or brighten the light talismans and tells him that someone will bring him dinner later. And with that Wen Qionglin leaves and it would feel normal, just like a regular visit to another sect, if not for the sound of the key in the lock.

        Lan Wangji wheels himself over to the light fixtures and admires the paintings for a while. The artist was clearly very talented. Then he tries to meditate, but it proves difficult, so he settles for some breathing exercises. They will have to suffice to get him as calm as possible to think about his – their – situation.

        The choice he’s been given is not really a choice. Or rather it is not a choice for him, because he is not willing to risk and lose his sect brothers and sisters. He is responsible for them. He is glad that he has been brought to this solitary room and not back, where Lan Xinmiao would use her seniority and sheer obstinacy to get from him the details of the conversation with the Yiling Patriarch. She would, perhaps, try to convince him that their sacrifices would be right and necessary, just so that he gets back safely to Gusu. She would be incorrect.

        The truth is, the only thing he can do, the wretched right choice, is to give himself over to the Yiling Patriarch and save the other Lan omegas.

        Of course, the Patriarch could be lying. But here’s another truth, one Lan Wangji carefully didn’t think about when he was left alone with the alpha, dressed in a mere two layers. If the Patriarch had wanted to, he could have taken and mated Lan Wangji there and then. He could have ordered some of his cultivators to hold Lan Wangji down, if he hadn’t felt like handling a struggling omega. But he didn’t.

        This makes Lan Wangji believe that he is sincere. That he might be forcing Lan Wangji’s hand, but he wants his support in this endeavour.

        The whole plan to get an alliance with the Lan is good, but not without risk. The Lan would not seek out the Yiling Wei for an alliance themselves, but if their young master got tied by marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, they could accept it. That would give them a powerful ally against the Wen and save them face – that they would lose if the world found out that they couldn’t protect their omegas and the Patriarch took Lan Wangji just like that. Still, they might decide it is better to abandon Lan Wangji and not have dealings with unorthodox cultivators. That would mean no alliance and Lan Wangji mated but not married, fully at the mercy of his new sect and his alpha, never to see his birth family again.

        He has seen this fate before, he knows what it means, and if the Lan reject the alliance, Lan Wangji will bear it, content with the knowledge that he returned other omegas to Gusu, right until the day it kills him.

        By the time a servant brings in the food, Lan Wangji is deep in meditation.

*

        When he lays down on the bed, ignoring the twinges of pain in his ribs and leg, Lan Wangji is resigned to a sleepless night. He expects either whirring thoughts or the usual misery of trying to fall asleep in a strange place. It is one of the reasons why he hates the sect conferences, though not the main one – at least during nighttime he is  left alone and the famous Lan bedtime has allowed him to retire early. Here though, his tired body pulls him into sleep almost as soon as his head touches the pillow.

        And now it is morning again, a late morning by the feel of it, and Lan Wangji has been woken up by Wen Qionglin coming in with breakfast and a change of clothes. Another set of infirmary robes, that is.

        All too soon Lan Wangji is brought before the Yiling Patriarch. Today the Patriarch is donning a robe that befits his station. It’s charcoal gray and with exquisite silver embroidery on the sleeves and along the lapels. He’s also wearing a guan that imitates the dead branches of the Burial Mound trees. They look surprisingly lifelike. The attire is more understated than some sect leaders would wear, but Lan Wangji can recognize quality.

        The Patriarch pours the tea and Lan Wangji cannot help but think that it might be the last time, because if… because when Lan Wangji is mated, it will be him preparing and pouring the tea. Now he’s a glorified prisoner, treated like a guest, if you ignore the impropriety of an alpha and an unmated omega alone together.

“May I ask some questions?” he asks.

        The Patriarch inclines his head.

“You said your sect is safe behind the wards. Why leave the safety and go against the Wen?”

“Maybe I have my reasons. Maybe it’s simply the right thing to do.”

“Which is it then?”

“Can’t it be both?”

        Lan Wangji does not scowl, that would be unbecoming, but he wants to.

“There is no guarantee that the Lan will agree to an alliance.”

“Yes.”

“You are willing to take the risk.”

“Yes.”

“What if they decline?”

“Then I will still have a well-raised, pretty mate. Trust me, I’m not losing here.”

        This time Lan Wangji can’t help but frown at the flippant response. The silence stretches.

“Well, what’s your answer, young master Lan?”

“My answer,” says Lan Wangji, and it feels momentous and like a dream at the same time, “Is yes.”

        The Patriarch leans towards Lan Wangji and looks him in the eye.

“Very well,” he says quietly and solemnly. “Very well.”

        It’s as if for a moment the cocky alpha has been replaced by another person altogether.

        Then he uses the summoning talisman. Lan Wangji expects Wen Qionglin, but it’s the alpha doctor from yesterday that comes through the door. She gives a short, respectful bow.

“Qing-jie, young master Lan here agreed to my proposal.”

        She looks between the Patriarch and Lan Wangji, her lips thin with displeasure. Lan Wangji can actually smell the souring of her scent. She looks ready to argue.

“No mating before he’s fully healed. It’s physically straining for an omega as it is. Ten days of rest and then I will do a full physical,” she says, leading Lan Wangji to think that this discussion had already taken place without him present. “And either of you can change your mind during this time.”

“Aiyah, Qing-jie.”

“Zongzhu.”

“Fine, fine.”

        Lan Wangji wonders what her objection is. He will not change his mind, he cannot. And the Patriarch seems to be set on this course as well, even though he’s not very forthcoming about his reasons.

        A moment later Wen Qionglin is told the same news and he stammers out congratulations. It’s so absurd that Lan Wangji wants to laugh. Instead he asks if he can see his sect siblings. The Patriarch waves them off and the daifu, another person that the Patriarch refers to very familiarly, settles at the table announcing that there’s work to be done.

        The Lan omegas are kept in what must be a repurposed junior dormitory. It consists of two connected rooms – the first empty, except for two long tables and a sword rack near the door, and the second a simple spacious bedroom with three neat rows of beds, each bed with an unadorned wooden chest at its foot. The light talismans here are embedded in the paintings as well, but instead of landscapes there are scenes of various small animals napping or playing.

        Lan Wangji cannot pay attention to details, because his arrival is met with a mix of open anxiety and enthusiasm, both quite unbecoming on the Lan, and he’s immediately surrounded by his sect brothers and sisters, at least those of them that are not asleep. Lan Xinmiao goes as far as to grab his sleeve. Lan Yachun, the youngest among them, looks for a moment as if she wants to throw herself down on the ground and hug Lan Wangji’s legs, but changes her mind and hugs the omega next to her instead.

“Young master, how are you? We were told nothing!” Xinmiao says, cutting through a barrage of exclamations. “Everyone here was afraid for you.”

“I am unhurt. I have been given a separate room. How is everyone here?”

        The sleeping omegas worry him. The Lan schedule is very strict, so to sleep like that during the day means they must be more hurt than he realised.

“After we were seen by the healers, we were given an opportunity to clean ourselves and then we were brought here and given food and tea. No one has bothered us,” with that she throws a furtive glance at Wen Qionglin who settled against the wall by the door.

        If she wants to say something more or ask any questions, the Wen omega’s presence stops her, but Lan Wangji is sure that what she said so far is the truth. He himself does not want to share the details of his deal with the Yiling Patriarch yet, so he asks for the details of everyone’s condition.

“Young master Lan, it’s time to go,” says Wen Qionglin after a while.

“Can’t he stay for the meal?” Lan Xinmiao tries.

“He needs his medicines and his rest as well,” Wen Qionglin responds kindly.

“It’s alright, cousin. I will visit you again,” Lan Wangji looks at Wen Qionglin. “Tomorrow.”

        On the way back Lan Wangji realises how tired he is and that he feels pain more acutely. Wen Qionglin must really be a healer’s assistant if he noticed that before Lan Wangji. He asks him about it.

“Ah, not really, young master. You see, my whole family are healers, have been for generations, so I just picked up a thing or two growing up. And I’m helping jiejie, when needed. We’re all very proud of her, so young and already in charge of the whole infirmary.”

“Then your sister is… Wen Qing?”

        Wen Qionglin smiles proudly and nods.

“I find it a bit unusual,” Lan Wangji picks his words carefully. “To see an alpha healer. There are none in Gusu.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard that… not about Gusu, just in general. Don’t mention to jiejie in the room, young master, she will give you a lecture.”

        Wen Qionglin is calm and friendly, and sees no issue with answering questions. Lan Wangji must think carefully about all the things he wants to ask. He still ponders his next question when they stop.

“Here we are, young master. I will prepare your medicine and I will let you rest. You don’t need any bandages changed, do you?”

“No, thank you.”

        Wen Qionglin fishes out a couple of small packets with herbs from his sleeves and prepares the medicinal tea with practised ease. It tastes exactly as vile as the day before, it must be very effective.

        When left alone, Lan Wangji decides to lay down and he dozes off during the day for the first time since he was a pup. He dreams of painted baby foxes and rabbits and goats and tigers chasing one another around a meadow.

        *

        A servant with the afternoon tea and meal wakes Lan Wangji up. He also brings another cup of the medicine, but says that Lan Wangji should only drink it if pain makes him uncomfortable or disrupts his sleep, and that it can be drunk cold as well.

        It’s when Lan Wangji pours himself tea, carefully keeping the sleeve out of the way, that something about the normalcy of this gesture drives home that his situation is anything but normal. His home has been attacked. He was kidnapped by the Wen. He walked for days on a broken leg. Due to the Wen’s incompetence he fell into the hands of a demonic sect. Although he hasn’t seen anything demonic yet, except for, perhaps, the wards. And this morning he sat at the table with the Yiling Patriarch, one of the most feared men in the cultivation world, and agreed to become his mate.

        Lan Wangji realises that his hands are shaking, no, his whole body is shaking so badly that he needs to put the teapot down. His breaths are coming too fast, too shallow and he gasps. His heart is beating wildly as if it were a songbird caught in a cage too small. He grips the edge of the table and curls into himself. His vision is swimming so he closes his eyes. That’s a bit better.

        He doesn’t know how long he stays like this, but he doesn’t move even after he manages to regulate his breathing.

        Lan Wangji has always known what his life was going to be. Unlike common people, cultivators do not rush into marriages. Lan Wangji is the brother of the sect leader, so his marriage was always going to be for the good of Gusu Lan. He could either marry a sect heir or a sect leader to strengthen their ties to the Lan or his position might entice a famous scholar or a talented warrior to join the Lan. He has always trusted his brother to make the right choice for him when the time came.

        Only in the privacy of his nest, in rare vulnerable moments, he thought he preferred that second option. He has never met someone he liked who fit the descriptions in the stories Lan Xichen loved to read, but he was raised to take care of his home and help with his sect and he thought he would like it to be his family sect. An amicable relationship with his husband would be enough.

        And now he might never see the Cloud Recesses again.

        He understood that the moment Wen Xu broke his leg and they were herded down the mountain, but back then he thought that he was going to die, either by Wen Ruohan’s hand or by his own. Now? Now he is going to live and for the first time in his life he doesn’t know what his life is going to be like.

        There is a chance he will walk through the gates of Cloud Recesses again – if the Lan agree to the alliance and Lan Wangji is wedded to the Yiling Patriarch. If they defeat Qishan Wen. There is a chance his children… he baulks at the thought, feels the panic creeping in again.

        He takes a few deep breaths and straightens. He leaves the now cold and over-steeped tea and wheels himself over to the light talismans. Lan Wangji is a passable painter, though definitely not on par with his brother, and he has always appreciated the art. He wonders if the artist who painted these silks has seen these landscapes or is it all from imagination. The strokes of the brush are feather-light, giving the feeling of airiness and open space. The mountains in the background, half-hidden in the clouds, seem almost like a mirage. It’s breathtakingly beautiful.

        Lan Wangji wishes he took a closer look at the animal paintings in the dormitory. If they were made by the same person, he or she must be very versatile. Maybe if he gets the chance tomorrow. He needs to start paying attention. To the layout of the corridors. To how this place works. To what this place really is.

        For now, he takes his medicine and goes back to bed.

*

“Wei-zongzhu apologizes that he cannot take tea with you this morning, young master Lan,” Wen Qiongling says. “He insists that you join him in the afternoon.”

It has been a routine for the last few days. Lan Wangji wakes up early and spends the next shi on meditation. His body is healing and so he gradually readjusts to his regular routine, even if he still takes naps during the day. Either a servant or Wen Qionglin brings him breakfast. If it is the latter, he stays and keeps Lan Wangji company. Lan Wangji can’t bring himself to break his family rule of no talking during meals, but Wen Qionglin seems content to just sit in silence and refill his tea. After breakfast Wen Qionglin reapplies the herbal salve on the last of Lan Wangji’s bruises, frowning unhappily at his ribs, and reties the bandages.

                That done, Lan Wangji joins the Yiling Patriarch for tea.

                They aren’t meeting in the office anymore, but in a sitting-room. The décor there is rather eclectic – some of the furniture in styles that Lan Wangji has never seen before, clearly brought from far away – and doesn’t follow any kind of color scheme, but somehow it all fits together.

        Wen Qionglin does not leave them alone. He sits unobtrusively at a side table and busies himself with reading. It is, Lan Wangji suspects, an attempt at propriety, because apparently having an alpha alone in the room with two unmated omegas is absolutely fine, as long as the Yiling Patriarch considers one of the omegas to be his little brother, even though they are not related. Not by blood, not by adoption. The Yiling Wei are terribly casual, or at least their leader is. At least, Lan Wangji is fairly sure that it’s not deliberate disrespect.

                These chaperoned meetings are... difficult. Uncomfortable. Lan Wangji, while he can quote poetry and present philosophical arguments in a succinct and elegant way, is not one for easy conversation. The Patriarch on the other hand talks a lot and does not always hear what’s coming out of his mouth. Not once and not twice Wen Qionglin’s polite coughing stops him from saying something downright inappropriate, while Lan Wangji watches him with wide eyes, torn between anger and mortification.

The Patriarch also tries to get closer to Lan Wangji, he lets their fingers brush as he hands Lan Wangji a painted fan on one occasion and he allows his scent to permeate the room, and it makes sense, the circumstances being what they are, but Lan Wangji remains stiff and tense, although he tries to relax.

                One thing that turns out to be an undisputed success is the food. On the first day the Patriarch discovers that Gusu Lan promotes a diet that is optimal for maintaining spiritual balance and discipline. He acts terrified and then he decides that Lan Wangji’s apparent deprivation must be immediately remedied. And so, every meeting is accompanied by a different assortment of pastries and sweets. It is excessive. And not a little embarrassing. It is also delicious. And responding to Patriarch’s questions about which sweets from the day’s selection Lan Wangji likes most and why makes for an easy and safe conversation topic.

                When only crumbs remain on their plates, Lan Wangji bids goodbye to the Patriarch and Wen Qionglin takes him to see the Lan disciples. Lan Wangji cherishes every moment of these visits, even though Lan Xinmiao throws him increasingly concerned and suspicious looks. She knows he isn’t telling them something. She hasn’t asked directly yet. If she does, Lan Wangji will have to decide between telling the truth and refusing to answer. He is not looking forward to it.

                Afternoons are spent on rest. Lan Wangji sleeps, meditates, or reads books Wen Qionglin brings for him. They are all romances, but they are also cheerful and easy to follow, perhaps a reflection of Wen Qionglin’s taste in a story, and Lan Wangji decides they are good enough for now as he finds it hard to properly concentrate. He does have two more panic attacks, though not as severe as the first one – he doesn’t waste any more good tea.

                So today there is a change in the routine. It is to be expected, sect leaders have many duties.

“Why is that?” Lan Wangji asks, not expecting a real answer. He’s used to being told everything that he needs to know so he pushes himself to ask questions like that. Until now he only did that in the classroom when some text or theory proved difficult.

“Wei-zongzhu has a meeting,” says Wen Qionglin without adding any details.

As far as Lan Wangji can tell, he is very loyal to the Patriarch, but also not keen on lying. If he doesn’t want to answer a question he tries to be evasive, in a very obvious way, or just apologises to Lan Wangji and says he cannot tell him something.

        Lan Wangji is also aware that he’s being kept away from other Wei sect members. When Wen Qionglin leads him to the Patriarch for their daily tea, he does not pick the straight route, as far as Lan Wangji can tell, so he assumes he tries to avoid the more used corridors. They sometimes pass someone by, a servant or a cultivator, but while Lan Wangji gets curious looks and people greet Wen Qionglin, no one tries to engage them in a conversation.

“But, ah, you also have an appointment today, young master. You will need a new wardrobe and our seamstresses can see you this morning!”

This is how Lan Wangji finds himself surrounded by a group of omegas and betas with strong opinions about fabrics and silhouettes. It’s another familiar scenario in an unfamiliar place.

The seamstresses argue about the feasibility of having the embroideries ready in time. One insists they will need to repurpose some from different robes, but it’s protested as inauspicious. Wangji finds that he doesn’t care about particulars. He tunes them out.

*

After ten days he’s brought once again to the infirmary. Too soon. It’s too soon.

This time there’s none of the hectic activity, only Wen Qing and the old omega daifu are waiting for him.

“Are you still determined to go through with this?” asks Wen Qing.

“Yes,” he inclines his head.

        He doesn’t know what her objections towards him are and he doesn’t feel like he needs to explain himself to her. He has made the only choice he could have made for his people as the Lan heir.

        Without another word Wen Qing takes his wrist and checks his meridians.

“Your energy is repleted and its flow is uninterrupted,” she says after a moment. Then she directs him behind the privacy screen, so that the other daifu can do a physical exam.

        Her conclusions are the same.

“You’re good as new, young man.”

“Thank you.”

“So, you’re going to mate with our zongzhu. Do you know how that goes? Do you have any questions?”

        He is glad that he doesn’t blush. The people here are so blunt. Or maybe it’s just the doctors everywhere.

“We have been taught in the Cloud Recesses. About mating. Thank you, daifu.”

“Hmmm.”

        She watches him with knowing eyes for a long while.

“Very well, I will tell you only one thing then. Our zongzhu, he’s a good boy, but in situations like this… alphas can get too eager or... over excited about an omega in their bed. And not pay proper attention. So if at any point things are moving too fast or you’re uncomfortable or in some pain, you tell that boy to slow down, you tell that boy to stop, do you understand? Kick him off you, if you have to. He wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“I… yes, daifu.”

        Do not argue with your elders.

        Lan Wangji won’t be doing any of that. He needs the mating to be successful and his comfort is immaterial. But he feels touched by her gruff concern for him. Once he’s mated he will be at the mercy of his mate and his new sect leader which are one and the same person. But if Wen Qionglin remains his friend and if the people in the sect, like the seamstresses or this old doctor here, remain kind, he thinks it might be tolerable.

        Not that the Patriarch has been cruel to him so far. He made it clear though that he sees Lan Wangji as a means to reach his goals and Lan Wangji respects that honesty. He knows better than to have any hopes.

        The daifu contemplates him for a moment and offers to give him an aphrodisiac that he could take to make it easier for himself. Lan Wangji politely declines this offer as well, ears flaming.

        After Lan Wangji dresses, Wen Qing accompanies him to the Patriarch’s sitting room. Lan Wangji is allowed to walk the whole way and he feels very glad to be rid of the wheelchair as an undeniable reminder of his weakened state.

        When they come in, the Patriarch is pacing, so Wen Qing decides to cut to the chase. Or perhaps she’s just always like that. She might be always like that.

“Lan Wangji is fully healed. There are no medical objections for him to get mated.”

        The Patriarch raises a brow at her wording, but doesn’t comment.

“I am glad to hear that,” he says as he comes towards them and stops in front of Lan Wangji.

“Is there anything else, Wen Qing?”

“You know what I think about it.”

“I do.”

“You’re going to go through it anyway.”

“I will.”

“Then there’s nothing else I can say to you about it. I don’t even know why I am bothering.”

“Ah, that’s because you love me! Aren’t I your second favourite brother!?”

        She huffs, but the line of her mouth is still displeased. Lan Wangji realises that he will have to try and find out why she’s so vocally opposed to her sect leader’s plan. She is courteous towards Lan Wangji, but she clearly holds enough power to vocally disagree with the Patriarch, even if just in private, so it would be unaccountably stupid of Lan Wangji not to worry about it.

        The Patriarch silently leads Lan Wangji to the table. He pours the tea while Wen Qing stays by the door, arms crossed, and waits for Wen Qionglin to arrive and take up the role of the chaperon. Only when Wen Qionglin is seated in his corner and Wen Qing leaves, the Patriarch speaks again.

“Is your decision still the same, Lan Wangji?” he asks. “Your sect siblings are now healed and rested too, you could have a chance...”

        Lan Wangji would very much like not to be asked this question again. He asked himself many times and the answer hasn’t changed. It’s not a chance he’s willing to take.

“I have decided, Patriarch.”

“Then you should probably stop calling me that. When we’re not with other company at least. You should call me, ah, you should call me Wei Wuxian.”

        Ah. Lan Wangji hasn’t even thought about the fact that the Patriarch must have a name. Yiling Wei. The Wei sect. Wei Wuxian.

“        Wei Wuxian,” he repeats, testing how it feels on his tongue. It is a good name.

“That’s me!” The Patriarch flashes him a smile and for once he seems as young as he is. “Well then, there’s no reason to delay. Let us be mated tomorrow evening and after that my cultivators will escort the remaining Lan back to Gusu. I’ll have them start on preparations today, they’ll need to prepare horses and enough provisions for the journey. You’ve met my commander, Luo Qingyang, she’ll lead the group personally. And I have to start on that letter to sect leader Lan…”

        All those things are very important to Lan Wangji, but he tunes the Patriarch’s ramblings anyway. His heart feels like it’s about the beat out of his chest. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be his mating day. Tomorrow he will irreversibly step on a narrow path towards his future.

        There’s no way back for a mated omega. Widows and widowers sometimes go back to their natal families, if they have no children, but a life of a widowed omega is nothing to be envious of. And even if the Lan decided to attack the Yiling Wei and if they accomplished that impossible task to take Lan Wangji back by force (and Lan Wangji can imagine his brother wanting to do that, consequences be damned, at least until he sits down and thinks like a Lan sect leader should think), Lan Wangji would live out his days quietly shunned (he let himself be disgraced, the Lan would think, his family killed his mate, the others would think) and in near seclusion.

“...so what do you think, Lan Wangji?”

“Mn?”

        He should listen. He should pay attention.

“I was asking if they should take a longer route or if they should hire boats to cross the Baling Lake. Which would be safer, do you think?”

        Lan Wangji considers it.

“Gusu Lan have always watched the lake. If they have regained full control over the land near Cloud Recesses it would be both safe and fast to use the water route. But if there is still some Wen presence there, they will also be watching the lake.”

“And then the group would be spotted out in the open. It’s already enough of a risk to travel in such a big group. Still, I would want my cultivators to be back as soon as possible. I guess Qingyang will have to do a reconnaissance and make a decision once she knows the situation on the ground.”

“Mn.”

“Where will the Lan meet us when they spot us? At the gate of the Cloud Recesses or at the base of the mountain?”

“The base of the mountain, if they can. Our elders wouldn’t want trained cultivators near the grounds after the attack.”

        Or demonic cultivators at any time, he doesn’t say. Not to mention he doesn’t know how badly damaged the wards are. It’s unlikely that the sect managed to do all the repairs already.

“Or, if they can, perhaps in the town.”

        It’s the first time Lan Wangji thinks about Caiyi. Are the civilians safe? The attack was very swift, so maybe the Wen bypassed the town fully. Lan Wangji has never spent much time there, preferring the serenity of his home and dedicating all his free time to cultivation, but the Lan have a duty to the civilians. The Wen came to destroy and loot, if they could put their hands on any omegas in town, they probably did.

        Lan Wangji suppresses a shudder. The Patriarch doesn’t notice his reaction, busy with replenishing their cups and still talking about the logistics of travel, the man really never stops talking except in those moments when he watches Lan Wangji as if he was a complicated puzzle and it makes him feel all unsettled.

        In the end it’s Wen Qionglin who interrupts the Patriarch to remind him about some planned meeting. He keeps the details vague. Lan Wangji finds it really frustrating that he is both told a lot of things and a lot of things are withheld from him. He understands why it is so, but it still smarts. And not even because it’s a reminder that he’s not fully trusted, it’s not like he trusts them fully, he probably won’t until he gets proof that all his sect siblings are safely back in Gusu, but because it makes him think of how his brother and his elders repeatedly told him not to concern himself with the political situation. If he was better prepared… of course now it is futile wondering about what he could have done differently.

        The rest of the day passes as the days before, with the pleasant change of not having to use the wheelchair.

        In the evening a package is brought to Lan Wangji’s room together with the evening meal. He does his best to ignore it for about a shichen, knowing what’s inside. But his eyes and his thoughts drift to where it lays innocently on a side table. Finally, he steels himself and then he forces himself to relax because this is ridiculous, it’s just robes, nothing to get nervous about. And here they are, his mating robes.

        There are just two layers. The underrobe is made of fine, flowy, red silk. It is unadorned and the material spills between Lan Wangji’s fingers like water. The overrobe is made of silk brocade, pale grey and heavy. The sleeves and the lapels are embroidered with a shimmery red thread. The embroidery is simple but beautiful and Lan Wangji can’t help but trace it with his fingers. There are symbols of fertility, fidelity, and marital harmony worked into the floral pattern.

        Both robes are loose and with simple fastenings. There is no separate belt. If tomorrow was Lan Wangji’s wedding, he would wear ornate robes in red and gold to the ceremony. His hair would be done up in a complicated style and adorned with jewellery made of gold filigree and precious stones. Only after he spent an appropriate amount of time on the feast, graciously receiving toasts and well wishes, he would be guided by chosen omega family members to his wedding chamber. There they would take the ornaments out of his hair and help him change out of the wedding finery and into the mating robes, so that Lan Wangji could comfortably wait for his new husband to join him. And so that his new husband could easily disrobe Lan Wangji.

        There will be no wedding tomorrow. There might never be one for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji takes the over robe and holds it to his body in front of a mirror. It is an exquisite garment and he is glad that the seamstresses took note of his preference for lighter shades. He has never worn greys, but they are prominently used in Yiling Wei and he will have to adjust to wearing his alpha’s colours. It’s one of the many adjustments he will have to make and it makes him anxious that he has no idea what others will be.

        He wonders if his mother had been given a mating robe. He has shied away from the thoughts of her, but it cannot be helped. He wonders if there was someone to brush her hair for her and help her dress, if someone was there to whisper blessings during the preparations. If she even knew what kind of life awaited her. Or if she walked into it with open eyes, just as her son is about to do. He wonders if she would have cried over this fate he has chosen.

        She is a gentle and lively woman in his memories, but he came to understand that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about her life. She always greeted him and his brother with a smile, and she played with them, and she sang for them the songs that were not Gusu songs, but that was only who and how she was during their monthly visits. He has no idea how she spent the rest of her time in that remote house. He doesn’t know if she looked at them and saw traces of her parents and grandparents, if a gesture or an expression had ever reminded her of her siblings or cousins.

        This time, when Lan Wangji goes to bed, the mating robes folded and returned on the side table, he cannot fall asleep. He feels restless and his thoughts are in disarray. After a while he turns onto his side and curls up. He never sleeps like this, because a good Lan disciple sleeps on their back with their hands folded on their stomach, but he won’t be a Lan disciple for much longer and it feels good to be able to do that, now that his leg isn’t a hindrance to his movements.

        Maybe it would be good if he could cry, spill all these thoughts and emotions in a simple physical reaction, but Lan Wangji has not cried since his mother passed away and his eyes remain dry.

        On the day of the mating Lan Wangji refuses to go and see the Lan disciples which immediately worries Wen Qionglin. It’s a little funny that Lan Wangji ends up trying to calm the Wen omega and not the other way around. He assures Wen Qionglin that he is alright and he simply wishes to spend the day on reflection and meditation, as if it wasn’t all he’s been doing since he entered the Patriarch’s halls.

        Wen Qionglin promises to bring Lan Wangji some new books later, one in particular he’s very excited about, so perhaps Lan Wangji wasn’t fully successful in reassuring him. Left to his own devices Lan Wangji ignores Wen Qing’s instructions to take it easy, pushes some of the furniture against the walls, and goes through a sequence of introductory Lan forms. Then he goes through the first set of more advanced forms.

        It is slightly strange to do it without a sword, he has always trained with Bichen from the moment he was given it and now he goes through movements like a baby disciple. At least the familiarity of it finally settles some of his restlessness. Lan Wangji has always been praised for his meditation technique and diligence, but he never feels more connected with his cultivation than when he does sword exercises.

        Buoyed by his success he goes into another set of forms and a painful twinge in his side makes him stop in the middle of it. It’s only then that he realises he’s panting and he’s more sweaty that he’d normally be. He grudgingly admits to all the doctor’s he has ever met that perhaps going back to physical exercise after an illness or a wound should happen gradually.

        Still, he’s tempted to finish the set, but that would be unwise with how there’s more physical exertion, that’s what he’s calling it, still before him today. So he only does some light stretching exercises to wind down and then settles into meditation.

        When Wen Qionglin comes back, accompanied by two of the seamstresses who have been apparently assigned to help Lan Wangji wash and dress, there’s no sign of Lan Wangji going against the doctor’s orders.

        While they are waiting for the water to be brought in, one of the women busies herself in crushing the herbs that will make the bath fragrant and setting out an array of hair oils, soaps, and butters. The other, a young beta named Minhui, chatters at Lan Wangji and Wen Qionglin about the progress with the robes for Lan Wangji. She skips through practical details like under robes or the fact that Lan Wangji wears borrowed disciple boots that won’t go together with, it seems, anything in his new wardrobe. Instead she goes into detail about the embroidery and how they rushed to finish it on at least one robe so that Lan Wangji has something to wear when he’s properly introduced to the sect.

“Oh, and of course the embroidery on the mating robe!” Minhui says and then flushes bright red.

“It is very beautiful. Thank you for your hard work,” Lan Wangji takes pity on her while the other seamstress is chastising her for speaking before thinking. She looks as if she’s withholding a smile though, so Minhui probably won’t be too severely scolded.

        Although it is unseemly to allude to how rushed Lan Wangji’s mating is. He doesn’t think any of the servants in the Cloud Recesses would make such a mistake.

        You are no longer in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji reminds himself. It is one of the things he needs to figure out. He’s been kept apart from the majority of the sect so far, but the people he has met are largely informal and laid back to the point of rudeness, including the Patriarch. One exception is Wen Qing, whose scowls could rival the scowls of his uncle. Does it mean that the demonic cultivators are so far off the righteous path that they even scorn the cultivation world’s manners? Or does it mean that the hardships of living in the Burial Mounds shortens the distance between people? Or does it mean something else entirely? Is he an exception as a captive omega and will he be treated differently once officially incorporated into the sect? Or do they try to make him feel more at ease with their informality?

        The next shichen Lan Wangji spends being thoroughly pampered. He is familiar with the process from when he had to attend various sect conferences and Lan Xichen flat out refused to let him attend in his disciple clothing and everyday hairstyle as the Lan  would have lost face.

        Both seamstresses are very efficient, even if they spend a ridiculous amount of time sighing over Lan Wangji’s hair. Wen Qionglin tries to help at first but then he’s relegated to the role of entertainer, even if he’s higher rank than the women and shouldn’t be ordered around by them. The problem is that Wen Qionglin is not much of a conversationalist and he gets shy when asked to sing or perhaps play an instrument. In the end he resorts to reading aloud from the novel he brought.

        It’s ridiculous. The story, not the reading. Wen Qionglin stutters a bit in the beginning, but once he gets immersed in the tale it’s quite pleasant listening to him. He has a low, melodic voice, and he even tries to make different voices for different characters.

        The story is about a young alpha who is betrothed to a young omega from a different city. He has never met his fiancee, but he received her portrait and fell in love with her that way. Then, a short couple of months before the planned wedding, the province where his fiancee lives is overrun with barbarians from the West. After a while all communications are cut and the hero’s father decides that it’s a lost cause and starts looking for another omega for his son. The hero cannot abide by it and sets out to rescue his beloved. And of course, it cannot be easy, so he has a series of progressively more improbable adventures.

        This is exactly the kind of story that Xichen would love. Lan Wangji wonders if the hero had even one decent conversation with his omega before the happily ever after. It’s a given that rescue will be successful, but Lan Wangji idly thinks that he would like to hear the other side of the story. Would an omega in a situation like that expect to be saved by someone she has never met? Would she sit and wait while the hero battled the monsters and outwitted the bandits? Lan Wangji likes to think not.

        He has read some of Xichen’s books, but most of them were similarly preoccupied with the alpha hero and only praised the omega’s looks. One exception was a story where a poor omega disguised themselves as an alpha to travel to their relatives that lived in another part of the country. They met a dashing hero in the end, but Wangji was engrossed in their adventures before that. Unfortunately Xichen had never sneaked in anything similar again.

“Ah, to be so fortunate to find a spouse with such a sense of duty!” gushes Minhui.

“You shouldn’t fill your head with silly stories like that,” the older seamstress sounds remarkably like Lan Qiren.

“Is it silly, though, to want a good partner?” asks Wen Qionglin. He’s a little flushed after reading a lengthy passage where the hero makes an impassioned speech about his love being an undying flame.

“You, young master, will have a pick of fine alphas, zongzhu and lady Wen will make sure of that. But us regular folks, we don’t get to be choosy. No handsome warrior or scholar will come from faraway land to ask for Minhui’s hand!”

“Hey! Maybe they will!”

“Maybe frogs will fly! Now with all this unrest we’ll be lucky to see any traveling merchants in Yiling this season.”

        Lan Wangji feels quite disconnected from this conversation and he’s the man getting mated. It is not a foreign thing for him. His sect siblings are similarly interested in such topics.

        The mention of the Wen aggression turns the mood a bit sombre.

        Wen Qionglin picks up reading.

        The seamstress, and Lan Wangji should really ask for her name, directs Lan Wangji to sit on a low stool and begins to brush his hair and murmur traditional blessings. But maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t ask. When she stands behind him like that and he doesn’t see her, he can imagine it’s his mother doing that for him, as would be traditional. Lan Wangji isn’t prone to flights of fancy, but maybe this once he can indulge this little fantasy.

        All too soon there’s no more to be done. His skin is soft and faintly smells of flowers, his hair is shiny, part of it gathered in a simple topknot and the rest left loose. His nails are trimmed and polished. He refuses the offer to have his face painted. His mating robes fit beautifully and he is given a pair of silk slippers, so that he won’t have to walk through the corridors either barfoot or in disciple boots. Now the only thing left is to wait for the summons from the Patriarch.

        Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji repeats in his head. Summons from Wei Wuxian.

        Wen Qionglin reaches the place in the story where the hero scales the walls of the occupied city, when a communication talisman flits into being before his eyes. He reaches for it and listens for a moment, head tilted.

“It is time,” he says.

        And Lan Wangji finds himself briefly irritated that the story is interrupted like that, even if he doesn’t really like it. He takes a few deep breaths and recognizes it for what it is, nervousness. It is such a monumental change for his life and he keeps getting caught up in the mundane details of the preparations and the normalcy of the conversations with and around him, and then it hits him again and steals the breath from his lungs.

        Their little procession with Lan Wangji in the middle walks down yet another unfamiliar corridor.They meet no one on the way, not one hurrying servant, and Lan Wangji is sure that it’s by design.

        They stop before black door. Wen Qionglin knocks and the Yiling Patriarch opens the door and invites Lan Wangji in without any ceremony.

The door clicks close behind Lan Wangji and it cuts off the steady murmur of well-wishes kept up by his little entourage. Lan Wangji doesn’t take in anything about the room as the Yiling Patriarch leads him to a small table where their evening meal awaits, except that it’s clearly the alpha’s den with layers and layers of his potent unfiltered scent. If Lan Wangji hadn’t spent his recovery days exposed to the Patriarch’s scent it would trigger his flight instinct. As it is, it just makes him slightly wary.

        The Yiling Patriarch looks at Lan Wangji like on the day they met, like Lan Wangji is a complicated puzzle, a problem to be solved. There is no cocky smile, no outrageous remarks.

        Lan Wangji busies himself with pouring tea, making sure to be as elegant and precise as he has been taught. It is not that he might be found wanting, the Patriarch has made it very clear where he sees Lan Wangji’s value, but Lan Wangji discovers that he is not free from pride. He keeps his movements fluid and unhurried, makes a little performance of a simple fact of pouring tea. There are droves of alphas who would kill for the unparalleled Lan Wangji to pour tea for them, but fate has different plans.

        It is the first time when Lan Wangji pours the tea for the Patriarch. From now on he will do that for him, his family, and perhaps for his guests. That last one, if the Patriarch would give him some representative tasks in his household. Lan Wangji has never particularly cared about those before but now he sees them as his chance to hear about the wider world.

“Thank you,” the Patriarch says once he drinks from his cup. “Luo Qingyang told me today that the preparations for the journey to Gusu are concluded. They have the provisions ready, and the horses…we’ve had to borrow some horses in Yiling, there’s no reason to keep that many up on the mountain…”

“Thank you for telling me,” says Lan Wangji. It is both a reminder why he’s willing to tie himself to the Yiling Patriarch and a reassurance that the Patriarch intends to keep his word.

“It’s only right.”

        They spend the rest of the meal in silence. In spite of his sect’s teachings about appropriate sustenance and not wasting food, Lan Wangji eats very little. The Patriarch mostly pushes his food around the plate. They finish a second pot of tea.

        And then it’s done.

        They look at each other for a moment and…

“Ah, let’s do it the right way,” the Patriarch says nonsensically as he leans towards Lan Wangji.

        He puts his hand on Lan Wangji’s cheek and with light touch pulls him closer, and it happens both agonisingly slow and quick like a lightening, and Lan Wangji is being kissed. The Patriarch’s hand is calloused from the sword and his mouth is hot and a little dry.

        Is that it? Is that all that kissing is? Lan Wangji thinks. And then the Patriarch’s tongue coaxes his lips open, and a change of the angle sends a shiver down Lan Wangji’s spine.

        Lan Wangji doesn’t understand why his eyes fall shut. The room disappears and there’s only the Patriarch’s… Wei Wuxian’s scent, and his touch, on Lan Wangji’s cheek, on Lan Wangji’s mouth. And then Wei Wuxian puts his other hand on Lan Wangji’s knee, to keep his balance, because he’s leaning pretty hard, and nobody ever has touched Lan Wangji like this.

        They part for a breath and before Lan Wangji can get his bearings, Wei Wuxian reels him back in for another kiss.

“You smell so good,” he whispers, not removing his lips from Lan Wangji’s and Lan Wangji realises that he let out his scent. What a staggering lack of control, he chastises himself, but before he can get embarrassed about it, Wei Wuxian stands up and pulls Lan Wangji up as well.

        Something clatters on the floor, pushed off the table by an errant sleeve or sash, and they both ignore it. The hand from Lan Wangji’s knee is now placed securely on his waist, hot like a brand, the other hand moves from cupping his cheek to holding the back of his neck. Lan Wangji’s legs do not feel very stable, but luckily the Patriarch doesn’t have this problem. He doesn’t break the kiss as he starts walking Lan Wangji backwards towards what must be his bed. His scent gets more heady and there are some teeth involved in his kisses now. Not quite knowing what he’s doing Lan Wangji nips Wei Wuxian’s lower lip in retaliation, but that doesn’t repel him. If anything he grows more aggressive in devouring Lan Wangji’s mouth.

        And then Lan Wangji is being pushed down on a bed. He lands on soft furs with a small yelp and his eyes fly open. Without thinking he kicks off his silk slippers. He breathes hard, pants really, as if he just finished a strenuous run, and looks up at the Patriarch.

        And oh what a picture the leader of Yiling Wei paints now! He’s flushed, looking undone, and there’s a wild gleam in his eyes. His mouth is bitten red and glistening with saliva. Dangerous. Lan Wangji has always appreciated the beauty of alphas, but in a detached way, like he would appreciate a painting or a poem. This? This is something else. This is standing on top of a mountain and looking at the abyss at your feet.

        Not taking his gaze away from Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian unties his belt and shrugs off his outer robe. And he is on Lan Wangji again, pinning him to the bed and pushing one knee between his thighs. His hands wander until they find the flimsy ties keeping Lan Wangji’s robes closed. Still, he seems to have a problem with them, distracted as he is by kissing Lan Wangji. A low growl starts in his throat, but before he can rip the robes open, Lan Wangji grabs his hands.

“Let me.”

        Wei Wuxian’s nostrils flare, but he stills.

        It would not do to destroy the seamstresses’ hard work, thinks Lan Wangji and it’s his first clear thought since that first kiss. Do people think about such things in bed?

        Ties unlaced, Wei Wuxian makes quick work of baring Lan Wangji’s body. He stills again, mouth slightly parted, and Lan Wangji, torn between desire and embarrassment, pulls him down for another kiss.

        Wei Wuxian obliges easily, but after a moment he breaks the kiss and moves his mouth to Lan Wangji’s throat and then lower, lower.

        Lan Wangji grips the furs and arches up as Wei Wuxian sucks on his nipples. That prompts the alpha to make a pleased noise and double his efforts. He licks and sucks one nipple and rubs the other. Nobody has ever touched Lan Wangji like that. None of his teachers have mentioned things like that when discussing the act of mating. Lan Wangji had thought, in those rare moments when he allowed himself to think about such things, that he would only have to endure the discomfort of joining and knotting, but this, this…

        He is not ready for this. He’s blushing all over and his scent is out of control and he doesn’t know what he would beg the Yiling Patriarch for if he opened his mouth.

        Wei Wuxian abandons Lan Wangji’s chest and again moves lower, now impatient, and takes Lan Wangji’s hard cock in hand. Even with precum it’s too dry, the slide too rough. Before Lan Wangji dares to voice his discomfort, Wei Wuxian realizes the problem and briefly leaves Lan Wangji in bed to grab a small bottle of oil from the side table. It becomes immediately, immeasurably better.

        The first touch to Lan Wangji’s entrance almost makes him close his legs. He grips the furs harder. Wei Wuxian takes his time. He concentrates on Lan Wangji’s cock, gives his thighs little licks and nips, and at the same time, with his other hand, also generously coated in the lubricant, rubs and teases Lan Wangji’s entrance. It’s an exquisite torture.

        Overwhelmed, Lan Wangji almost misses the moment when he tips over the edge and as Wei Wuxian jerks him through his orgasm he misses the first finger slipping inside him, its movement eased by oil and slick. He goes boneless, now too relaxed for embarrassment, too comfortable with breathing in the scent of sex and sweat and alpha pheromones, and he allows Wei Wuxian to do as he pleases and ready him for the next part.

        When Wei Wuxian finally disrobes, carelessly tossing his clothes aside, Lan Wangji is half hard again.

        Lan Wangji eyes the alpha’s cock, hard and heavy between his legs. It is bigger than Lan Wangji’s, but not by much, and thicker at the base where the knot will form.

        Wei Wuxian takes himself in hand and slowly, slowly works himself into Lan Wangji, using his other hand to keep Lan Wangji’s leg pushed up and to the side so that he’s fully exposed. He feels bigger like that, almost impossibly, and Lan Wangji’s breathing accelerates as he looks at where their bodies become joined. Sensing his distress Wei Wuxian releases a wave of calming pheromones and thrusts forward, burying himself completely in the omega. Lan Wangji feels him in his throat.

        Wei Wuxian then lowers himself fully onto Lan Wangji, bites into his neck, still below the scent gland, and starts fucking Lan Wangji with deep, long thrusts. And Lan Wangji cannot do anything except take it. He untangles his hands from the furs on the bed and grips Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, and holds onto them for his dear life.

        He keens and pants, he whines when a particularly hard thrust moves him up on the bed. He is undone. Has the poised and restrained Jade of Lan been only a mask for this wanton omega who is being taken by a near total stranger and is nearly losing his  mind from pleasure? Are the three thousand rules not enough to leash him to propriety and keep him virtuous? How is it that he is enjoying his fall so thoroughly? How lucky he is that these thoughts just float through his mind and immediately disappear, chased off by another wave of pleasure.

        Wei Wuxian’s rhythm stutters and all of a sudden he pulls out and flips Lan Wangji onto his stomach like he weighs nothing. Then, before Lan Wangji even manages to whine in protest of this rough treatment, he grabs Lan Wangji’s hips, lifts them up and plunges back in. And a few breaths later he’s coming, still thrusting, and his knot is inflating, and he moves Lan Wangji’s hair out of the way and bites hard into his scent gland, mating him. Scent of blood joins the scent of sex in the room and Lan Wangji comes for the second time and loses all senses.

        When he comes to, a short moment later, Wei Wuxian has moved them so that they are laying on their sides, tied together by the alpha’s knot and by the invisible mating bond. Lan Wangji’s scent gland pulsates with pain and Wei Wuxian licks it to ease his discomfort.

        It’s done, thinks Lan Wangji. We did it the right way. It’s done.

        He feels very tired.

*

        Lan Wangji doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but he must have done so since he startles awake and all the candles in the room are put out and, more notably, he is no longer knotted. He is, however, still being hugged from behind by Wei Wuxian who appears fast asleep. Lan Wangji takes stock of the situation.

        The alpha must have cleaned him up because he’s not nearly as sticky as he should be. He is sweaty though, because he’s also tucked under the covers and feels too hot. It is uncomfortable. The Lan encourage moderate heating so that the body adjusts to lower temperatures. It’s part of the adherence to their ascetic principles.

        Lan Wangji tries to wiggle away from Wei Wuxian who runs very warm, but the alpha just grumbles and squishes Lan Wangji even tighter to himself. Not wanting to risk waking him up, Lan Wangji settles for pushing the covers off himself as much as possible and relishes the feel of cold air on his body.

        Finally, with some hesitation he turns his attention inwards, to his spiritual energy. He can sense the bond between him and Wei Wuxian, he can sense the deep calm and contentment radiating through it from the alpha. A part of him wants to poke and prod that connection, but he doesn’t have enough medical knowledge to know if it’s a safe thing to do. Good thing that Wei Wuxian is dead to the world, because all he would feel through his bond is Lan Wangji’s anxiety.

        Right, he needs to do something with that. It takes him longer than usual, laying in bed with someone who’s effectively plastered to Lan Wangji is detrimental to reaching the required level of inner peace, but he manages.

        The next time he opens his eyes his body tells him that it must after maoshi already. Another attempt to disentangle himself from Wei Wuxian fails and by now Lan Wangji feels a little disgruntled about it. The alpha shows no signs of waking.

        Lan Wangji’s spiritual energy is still low which is expected after mating, since forming the bond drains omega’s energy, and he has a new weird awareness of his body, the body capable of pleasure, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s more than ready to leave this liminal space, take a long bath to wash off the sweat, brush his hair with two hundred strokes of a comb, and start his day. Lan Wangji is fundamentally changed and unchanged at the same time.

        The bond, he thinks, should feel like a shackle, but it doesn’t. Lan Wangji’s thoughts and feelings toward the Gusu Lan, the Yiling Wei, the Qishan Wen, and the world at large are the same as they were yesterday. The one change he can identify is that Wei Wuxian smells different now. Or rather he smells the same, but for Lan Wangji it’s no longer the scent of a stranger that elicits both intrigue and apprehension. Now Wei Wuxian smells like he’s Lan Wangji’s.

        And maybe that’s where the danger lies. He is Lan Wangji’s…mate. And Lan Wangji needs to stop shying away from this word even in the safety of his mind. But Lan Wangji’s position is not secure. True, it seems Wei Wuxian likes Lan Wangji’s body well enough, but if the Lan decide to cut their losses and abandon Lan Wangji, if Wei Wuxian decides then to take another mate and make them a spouse, no, it doesn’t bear thinking about.

        Wei Wuxian wakes when Lan Wangji considers a third escape attempt. He shoves his nose into the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck, breathes in deeply and flips Lan Wangji onto his back to inspect the mating bite.

        Lan Wangji swallows a growl. Wei Wuxian is his alpha now, he can do as he pleases.

        Satisfied with the results of his inspection Wei Wuxian looks up.

“Aiyah, it’s so early, why are you awake already?”

“It is almost sishi,” Lan Wangji responds curtly. “The Lan get up at maoshi.”

“Well, you don’t have to anymore.”

“It is beneficial for cultivation.”

Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue.

“Is it now? What do you cultivate, misery?”

        Lan Wangji forces himself not to tense. It seems that with a sleep-addled mind and without Wen Qionglin’s supervision Wei Wuxian can be quite rude.

“Don’t look at me like that, everyone I know manages to cultivate just fine after the sun graces us with its presence.”

        Lan Wangji says nothing to that.

“No time like the present,” continues Wei Wuxian. “You stay here, it’s bad luck for omega to work on the first day. I will call for the bath and then we have an appointment with lovely Wen Qing so that she can take a look at the bond and stop fussing. It feels good though, right? You smell good.”

        With his mouth not occupied with doing unspeakable things to Lan Wangji’s body, Wei Wuxian is back to talking non-stop. Lan Wangji should find it irritating, but he’s mostly relieved that his input, apart from the occasional hum, is not needed. Some tension remains in his body, but he suspects it won’t ease entirely until his sect brothers and sisters are safely back in Gusu.

        After the bath, during which Wei Wuxian insists upon washing Lan Wangji’s hair, which makes him feel a little like a child and a lot like he doesn’t have enough space for emotions in his body, there is a new set of robes waiting for Lan Wangji. They are in the flowy style he favours, with an ornate belt to cinch the waist, but the colours are all Yiling Wei greys and blacks. Between this and the mating bite Lan Wangji’s allegiance will be clear to anyone who sees him.

        In the infirmary, where Wei Wuxian leads him by tugging at his sleeve, Wen Qing is indeed fussing. She probes both their energies and makes them do simple meditation exercises before checking the changes in the flow of their spiritual energies. She pays special attention to the bite on Lan Wangji’s neck and he stiffens under her scrutiny. Even though he’s mated it feels weird to have another alpha so close to his scent gland. Wei Wuxian complains the whole time about her cruelty and unreasonable demands, but it’s clearly not serious, just as Wen Qing’s exaggerated threats of using her medicine needles are all play. Lan Wangji has never understood this kind of bonding and he doesn’t care one bit for it.

        He watches the squabble in silence and obeys the doctor’s instructions.

“Your energies are at an expected level and the bond feels very stable, especially as it is such a short time after bonding,” says Wen Qing finally. “You can maintain your usual level of activity, however it might happen that some of the after-effects happen with delay. If there is anything, fever, dizziness, muscle tremors, come back here immediately. None of these should be dangerous, but better safe than sorry. I will make sure you’re given herbal tisane with your meals for the next few days. It will aid replenishing your yin and yang energies respectively. Any questions?”

“No, doctor. Thank you.”

“Hey, I have a question,” Wei Yin starts, but Wen Qing takes one look at his mischievous expression and tells them to leave the infirmary. It would be unthinkable in Lan sect to treat the sect leader like that, even if doctors are highly respected, but Lan Wangji reminds himself that the Wei are much more lax, at least with high-ranking family, which is what Wen Qing is.

        And then it’s time to see off the Lan omegas.

        Just like that the nerves are back. Have they been told anything since he last saw them yesterday? He doesn’t think so, so when they see him now… Lan Wangji treats this situation that he found himself in like a night hunt or a challenging task given to him by his teachers. He tries to keep a cool head and let the wisdom of his sect guide him. However, he does not feel ready to stand before his peers. He does not know if they would understand. If they would see why he couldn’t do anything else.

        He does not want to deal with the… emotional component. And this time he cannot step away from it and let his brother or one of his more personable cousins handle it. This is the last thing he will do as Lan-er-gongzi and isn’t that a frightening thought. Lan Wangji pushes it away.

        On the way they are joined by Luo Qingyang, already dressed for travel, and a couple of her men. They all are grim faced and look strong. Competent. Wen Qionglin appears silently from one of the smaller corridors and falls into step with Lan Wangji in a silent show of support.

        They enter the now familiar dormitory and soft chatter that Lan Wangji associates with omega only classes (as the classes where also alphas and betas participated were way more rowdy, even among the Lan) stops abruptly.

        Lan Wangji catches the widening of Xinmiao’s eyes and a couple of omegas hiding their expressions behind the sleeves of their robes, but before anyone does anything more than that, the Yiling Patriarch steps in front of everyone, easily commanding the attention of the room. Lan Wangji forces his feet to move and stands next to him.“It is a fortuitous day for the Yiling Wei sect,” Wei Wuxian announces. “It is not everyday that a sect leader finds his mate.”

        There are gasps among the omegas as if the sight of Lan Wangji’s marked neck wasn’t enough to convey this new reality to them.

“As a sign of our appreciation and a gesture of good will, my first disciple and her chosen warriors will escort you back to the Cloud Recesses. She will carry with her an offer of a marriage alliance between our sects to your zongzhu. Please get ready to head out within a shichen. Lan Wangji, do you want to add anything?”

        Lan Wangji looks at his sect brothers and sisters. Some of them schooled their expressions, but most of the younger ones look shocked and saddened. And some, some look hopeful. This is the look Lan Wangji wants to see most. They will be going home, they should be happy about it.

“Please take care,” says Lan Wangji, his voice even. “Make sure to work hard and make the Lan sect proud. May we meet again.”

        When he turns to leave, Hau Junyu throws himself on the floor and kowtows.

“Yiling Patriarch,” he cries. “Please let me stay and accompany Lan-er-gongzi! It is not proper for him to start his life here without someone from his native sect to support him.”

        If Lan Wangji was marrying out, he would be accompanied to his new home by at least two maids. Probably ten, if Lan Xichen would not let himself be discouraged. Hau Junyu’s request is reasonable enough.

        What are you doing, Lan Wangji wants to ask him. I did everything so that you can go home. However, he’s torn between his irrational anger and a desperate hope that Junyu is allowed to stay. And then comes the guilt, because if he stays, Lan Wangji cannot guarantee that he ever can go home. He no longer has any power, any leverage.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Wei Wuxian drawls and looks at Lan Wangji. “Lan Wangji, he’s your people, you make the decision.”

        Lan Wangji kneels in front of Junyu and raises him from the kowtow.

“Hau Junyu,” he says quietly, although he’s sure that everyone in this room hangs onto his every word. “Do you understand what it means for you to stay? The Lan might reject the alliance.”

        Someone whimpers, but Junyu doesn’t falter.

“Please let me stay with you, Lan-er-gongzi.”

“Very well,” Lan Wangji says. “You may stay as my attendant.”

        Lan Wangji stands up. The atmosphere in the dormitory is somber, the implications of what’s happening now clear to all the omegas.

        Lan Xinmiao steps to the front. She looks furious with him, but when she speaks her voice is perfectly even.

“Lan-er-gongzi, farewell. May you live in happiness and prosperity for one hundred years. Is there something you would like us to say to your elder brother?”

        Lan Wangji shakes his head. How can he ask her to convey the words he hasn’t found yet?

“Only that he should let the good of the sect guide him.”

        They bow to each other. All the other omegas hurry to bow as well.

        Lan Wangji’s throat feels tight.

“Wen Ning,” says Wei Wuxian. “Please escort Lan Wangji and his companion to Lan Wangji’s quarters and make sure they are fitted with an additional bed and whatever else that is needed. I will send for you later.”

        This part is now over as well.

*

        Back in Lan Wangji’s room, Wen Qionglin and Hau Junyu get into a discussion about rearranging the furniture to make space for a sleeping cot and adding a privacy screen. This is how Lan Wangji learns that another set of rooms will be assigned to him, because he cannot stay in the guest room indefinitely, not when he’s Yiling Patriarch's mate. He tunes them out and once they leave to get some things from storage, Lan Wangji goes to the washing area and stands in front of a mirror.

        His eyes get dragged down to the bite, so he covers it with his hand, careful not to touch it directly, and examines his face. He looks… he doesn’t look different. It’s almost disappointing. Kissed lips and unkissed lips look the same after some time passes. And Lan Wangji doesn’t know how to let the emotions swirling inside of him show on his face. He frowns but it’s not right, now he looks like he encountered a puzzling passage in  assigned reading material.

        He sighs and lowers his hand, tilts his head a little.

        The bite blooms like a spider lily on his pale neck. It’s clean and clearly deep and that makes Lan Wangji feel some irrational pride. It will make a good scar. He’s bonded properly. No one can question that.

        He remembers his mother’s bite, or rather, the jumble of scars over her scent gland. Back then he didn’t know what that meant. He doesn’t like thinking about it. At least it’s not this, he thinks now. At least it is something he agreed to.

        He feels drained. Part of it is the physical and spiritual exhaustion. The bonding process is especially taxing for omegas. But mostly, the anxiety of those last days and the anticipation are gone now and he’s not yet stressing about the Lan receiving the news of Lan Wangji’s new status.

        Wen Qionglin and Hau Junyu are back with some servants carrying a cot and various other items, and Lan Wangji is forced to answer questions about his preferences for their placement. He is very aware that the servants are stealing glances at his neck. The whole palace must know already, with the amount of people that have seen him since the morning.

        He wonders what they are thinking. Are Wei Wuxian’s plans known to the sect? Or are they excitedly sharing the gossip of a captive omega from a hostile sect that enticed their master?

        Finally they leave, Wen Qionglin promising to be back with a meal, and the moment the door closes Junyu comes up to Lan Wangji. He looks like he’d like to hug Lan Wangji, but decides against it and his arms hover awkwardly in the air next to Wangji’s shoulders. They are not particularly close, with Junyu being two years younger and more interested in healing than in martial arts. He is, as far as Lan Wangji knows, outgoing and energetic.

“Young Master, are you alright? Are you… not hurt?”

        Lan Wangji frowns, he’s been doing nothing but healing except for… ah.

“I am unharmed, the Yiling Patriarch was considerate.”

        Junyu gasps and, horrifyingly, tears up.

“There is no need for concern,” Lan Wangji reassures him. Is he going to be the one to console someone else?

“Hau Junyu, there will be war. The Lan cannot refrain anymore. Nor can the Jiang. Wen Ruohan has tested the borders of Yiling, unsuccessfully. The Yiling Patriarch is ready to support the sects, but he needs an alliance.”

        Lan Wangji turns his head to draw Junyu’s attention to the bite.

“The sect leader… my brother… and the elders, they might not agree.”

“But to have Yiling on our side, that would be an advantage!”

“Yes. However their cultivation is unorthodox.”

        Hau Junyu looks alarmed.

“Has the Yiling Patriarch…?”

        Lan Wangji blinks at him. Has the Yiling Patriarch what?

“Ah, I’m sure he wouldn’t dare,” Hau Junyu squirms.

        Lan Wangji would like to finish this conversation.

“Hau Junyu, I am grateful that you stayed. It is a comfort. This place is different from what we know, but those I have met so far are kind. The only thing we can do here is to follow the moral teachings of the Lan.

        Junyu nods fervently.

“Yes, Young Master!”

        Lan Wangji directs Hau Junyu to the pile of books and excuses himself. He is drained, so he follows the doctor’s instructions and allows himself a nap.

        In the evening Wen Qionglin escorts him to Wei Wuxian’s bedroom. This time there’s no pomp, no rituals. Lan Wangji recognizes some of the corridors. Wei Wuxian talks nonsense and tries to ply Lan Wangji with sweets.

        And when at the end of the dinner, he reaches for Lan Wangji, Lan Wangji goes willingly.

*

        Having Hau Junyu with him makes some things easier and some more difficult. His presence reminds Lan Wangji of the expectations placed on him as the young master from the Lan sect. He is to lead by example and while in their situation the need for it is somewhat limited, Hau Junyu looks up to him. It also distracts Lan Wangji from endlessly wondering how long until Luo Quingyang’s group reaches Gusu.

        Lan Wangji and Hau Junyu are still kept apart from the sect. Wen Qionglin is still their minder, but now he comes with a list of tasks. Lan Wangji makes more visits to the seamstresses for alterations and is asked to give his opinion on more material and pattern options. The seamstresses discuss how to make Lan Wangji’s new wardrobe and Wei Wuxian’s wardrobe compliment one another. He misses the unadorned Lan disciple outfit fiercely.

        The renovation of his new rooms also requires a lot of input from him. He hasn’t seen them yet, but Wen Qionglin brings with him various masters and tradesmen so that Lan Wangji can instruct them what are his wishes for woodwork, furniture, silk paintings for divider screens, incense burners and light fixtures. He does not try to replicate his Gusu home. It is the first time he makes decisions about his living space. When he moved into the Jingshi he left everything as it was when his mother lived there. Here he chooses from the options presented to him and only makes one request.

“Wen Qionglin, the silks we’ve been shown are very fine and I have no complaints. However it would be a great comfort to me if I could get Gusu silk for divider screens.”

“Ah, Young Master, we do not trade with Gusu, we could maybe get something through Moling…”

        Wen Qionglin gets a slight stutter when he’s nervous and disappointing someone definitely makes him nervous.

        Lan Wangji raises his hand to stop him.

“I understand. If my brother responds... favorably, would it be possible to ask for some Gusu silk in my marriage portion?”

“Oh, oh, yes, certainly!” Wen Qionglin lights up.

        They move onto other topics.

        In the evenings Lan Wangji joins the Yiling Patriarch for dinner and then in bed. Not once is he asked to return to his room after, so he spends the nights in Wei Wuxian’s bedroom… and Wei Wuxian’s embrace.

        The old Wen-daifu has told him that freshly mated pairs experience heightened physical attraction, but at the time he dismissed it. He cannot dismiss it now. As the day progresses the thrum of anticipation under his skin gets more and more noticeable. He feels unexpectedly impatient. The man himself still confuses him and they are locked in this weird in-between space, but his body is something that Lan Wangji learns and understands.

        Wei Wuxian is handsome. He moves like a consummate swordsman. He clearly prefers agility over bulking up which would be an easy thing for an alpha to achieve. He is still strong though, and the ease with which he moves Lan Wangji in bed when they are roughly the same size makes Lan Wangji feel things.

        Lan Wangji catalogues what he likes about Wei Wuxian’s body. A small mole under his lower lip. The way his back muscles feel under Lan Wangji’s hands when Wei Wuxian rocks above him. How sun-kissed his skin is. How distinct and dark his happy trail is.

        The act itself is still overwhelming with Lan Wangji not used to pleasures of the body, but not as much as the first time. After they clean up, while Wei Wuxian often shrugs on a robe and goes to his desk to read or handle some correspondence, Lan Wangji goes to sleep. Inevitably, he wakes up first, with Wei Wuxian cuddling him.

        Lan Wangji has been taught to be honest in all things. He cannot say that it is just submission to the will of his mate. He cannot say that he is being just a good, obedient omega. He cannot even say that it is because Wei Wuxian holds his life in his hands and Lan Wangji’s future is tied to the alpha’s favour. The hunger and the desire he sees on Wei Wuxian’s face match the hunger and desire of his own. He would like to sink his nails and his teeth into Wei Wuxian’s flesh and never let go.

        It scares him.

        The Lan believe in moderation. An omega should be able to control themselves in all situations. In the early morning hours, in the arms of a man who mastered dark arts, in a bed that starts to smell of both of them, Lan Wangji feels fully out of control.

*

“Should he treat you like that, Young Master?” blurts Hau Junyu one morning when Lan Wangji comes back to his room.

        Lan Wangji stares at him and Junyu blushes.

“It’s just… you are tired! How can he demand your company every night?!”

“He is my mate. He can ask for my company whenever he wishes,” Lan Wangji hopes that this will be the end of the topic, but Junyu is persistent.

“But it’s not right, it’s not reasonable!”

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“Well, he wants the alliance, that’s why he mated you. He’s got what he wanted. Can’t he leave you be until then?”

“I…Hau Junyu, he does not force me. It is beneficial for new mates to spend time together. And I. Enjoy it.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

Hau Junyu looks at him searchingly. His anger on Lan Wangji’s behalf has petered out and he seems a little lost.

“If that is all, I would like to wash up and change my clothes. Is breakfast ready?”

“Yes! I just waited to brew the tea. And they put the warming talisman on the bathtub, so your bath is ready as well.”

        They eat breakfast in silence as they are used to.

“What is the reason for your outburst? You see that I am treated well,” asks Lan Wangji once he puts his chopsticks down.

        Hau Junyu gathers his thoughts for a moment.

“I just got worried, I… Young Master, did you know that I am engaged?”

“I did not.”

“Well, maybe I no longer am, who knows? It was arranged when I was sixteen. The wedding is… was supposed to happen this year.”

        That is young for a cultivator, Junyu is still in training to become a healer.

“You asked to stay here.”

“Yes, but it’s really not because of that. You truly shouldn’t be left here on your own, Young Master. Anyway, it was a fortuitous match for my family. My fiance’s family are well respected and have ties that would be advantageous for my family’s business. He is older than me…twelve years. And…it is not a match that I would make myself. I was thinking about it and about you and the Yiling Patriarch and I got angry, I guess. I’m sorry.”

        Now it is Lan Wangji’s turn to be silent. He has no knowledge about the betrothals within the sect. He has never paid attention. He decides to respond with some sincerity of his own. It is not easy to put it into words.

“I am sorry, too, that I did not know.”

        He does not say that he would have done something. Hau Junyu is a filial son, if not for the Cloud Recesses burning and everything that followed, he would take three bows with the alpha chosen for him by his family. Regardless, it must have been difficult to carry such feelings and keep quiet. And Junyu is always cheerful, always trying to make the best of any situation.

“My agreeing to the Patriarch’s proposal was a sacrifice. I sacrificed the life I was supposed to have, but I sacrificed it for the Lan. And this is what I have always strived to do, serve my clan. No matter what happens now I have no regrets. Wei-zhongzhu is brash and dangerous, but he wants this endeavour to succeed as much as I do.”

“It shouldn’t be needed, your sacrifice.”

“It is what it is. I appreciate your concern, but I am fine.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt that Wei-zhongzhu is such a looker!”

        Lan Wangji blinks at the abrupt change of the tone of the conversation.

“He is conventionally attractive,” he affirms.

“Surely, he would have a spot on the list of most attractive alphas if we’d seen his face outside of the Burial Mounds!” The idea makes Hau Junyu laugh a little.

        Lan Wangji feels an abrupt urge to chastise him for such shallowness, but they are interrupted by Wen Qionglin before he manages to say something.

“Lan-gongzi!” says Wen Qionglin and pauses, because he’s clearly out of breath. “Wei-zhongzhu asks for you to join him in his study. Captain Luo has returned!”

*

        Lan Wangji does not run to the Patriarch’s office. His stride is long enough that accompanying him Wen Qionglin needs to trot to keep up with him. He leaves Lan Wangji at the door.

        Inside Wei Wuxian is pacing. His scent indicates nervousness and excitement.

        Luo Qingyang is nowhere to be seen.

“The Lan agreed to negotiate,” Wei Wuxian says without preamble. “Nothing is promised, but it’s a start, it’s a start!”

        Lan Wangji sways in place and suddenly Wei Wuxian is in front of him, steadying him and leading him to the nearest cushion.

        Wei Wuxian keeps talking as he hands Lan Wangji the official letter from the Gusu Lan. For a while Lan Wangji just traces with his fingers the familiar lines of his brother’s handwriting. Then he reads.

        The letter is perfectly formal and polite, maybe a little more stiff than Lan Xichen’s usual style, but then Lan Wangji can imagine Xichen is not in the best state of mind after learning what has happened with his younger brother.

*

Everything is as ready as it can be. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are in Wei Wuxian’s study. Wei Wuxian is looking through the plan of the visit once again, pretending it is work and not a way to calm his nerves. Lan Wangji is taking a tour around the room.

        “Stop pacing,” Wei Wuxian says.

        “I am stretching. We have been here since breakfast.”

        Wei Wuxian snorts and goes back to his papers. He crosses something out and then, at least by the look of it, writes the same thing down again.

The Yiling Wei scouts sent word in the morning that the Lan delegation has been spotted at the east border of the sect territories. It means that they should reach the city in the evening, spend the night there, and arrive at the Burial Mounds tomorrow morning, right on schedule.

Lan Wangji is starting another circle, when Wei Wuxian jumps to his feet and crosses the room to place himself on Lan Wangji’s path.

Lan Wangji tries to sidestep him, but when he moves to the left Wei Wuxian follows. And when he moves back to the right, Wei Wuxian follows. Infuriating man.

“So, what will it take for you to stop pacing? Should I feed you sweets?”

Lan Wangji huffs and feigns a move left, just to try to pass Wei Wuxian from the right, but he is caught again.

Wei Wuxian smiles conspiratorially and leans a little.

“Or maybe I should take you back to the bedroom, tire you out, hmm?”

“Shameless,” bites out Lan Wangji. The ease with which the Yiling Patriarch speaks about intimate matters makes Lan Wangji blush. It also vexes him. He does not like to think about other omegas that shared Wei Wuxian’s bed before him, even if none of them were given his bite.

“Also no? Ah, but you were not opposed to a little tumble just this morning!”

Lan Wangji considers just walking through Wei Wuxian, but then the alpha darts forward and grabs Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

“Ok, ok, I will be serious. What do you need Lan Wangji? What would it take to calm you down?”

And Lan Wangji blurts –

“My sword.”

He does not understand what it is about his man that makes him lose control of his tongue.

“Your… sword? No, no, no, no, no, don’t you turn away from me. Are you a swordsman? Do you night hunt?”

Wei Wuxian sounds… delighted, so Lan Wangji answers.

“I have trained since I was six. Only night hunted in Gusu.”

“I’m sure Gusu has some fine monsters! Ah, your sword then… you are giving me an impossible task. I know that the soldiers that escorted you didn’t have any trophy weapons. Is it still in Cloud Recesses then?”

“No. Wen Xu took it after he… broke my leg.”

This elicits a growl from Wei Wuxian. Protective, because Lan Wangji is now his.

“It is probably in Qishan already. We need to work hard on that alliance with the Lan then, so I can go and get your sword back! But in the meantime, how about a spar? We can use practice swords so that you’re not at disadvantage! What do you say?”

“I… yes.”

“Let’s go then!”

And he pulls Lan Wangji out of the room.

It turns out the Yiling Patriarch has his own courtyard for training. He explains cheerfully that he usually trains with the disciples, but it is very useful for training at strange hours and testing talismans. They do a warm up, going through some simple stances.

To hold a sword again, Lan Wangji does not know how to describe how it makes him feel. To cross swords with someone, even if they are indulging him… Lan Wangji forgets about his nerves regarding tomorrow, he forgets everything but this little courtyard and the weight of steel in his hand.

Soon enough, he and Wei Wuxian face each other and bow.

Wei Wuxian strikes first, fast, but without much power behind it. Lan Wangji blocks him easily and deals his own blow. After they cross blades a few times, Wei Wuxian realizes that Lan Wangji is not lacking in skill.

He bares his teeth in a grin, not threatening, but exhilarated.

Lan Wangji matches him blow by blow, but as the time passes Lan Wangji feels that he hasn’t recovered his form from before the Qishan attack. His stamina is lacking and he should be able to move faster. Wei Wuxian sees it as well, so he puts more brute force behind his strikes and pushes Lan Wangji to be on the defensive.

Wei Wuxian seems to favour speed and flexibility, but still has the considerable strength of an alpha.

Lan Wangji’s sword is knocked out of his hand and clatters somewhere to the side. And Wei Wuxian drops his own sword, swipes his leg under Lan Wangji, sending him down on his back and dives after him, capturing Lan Wangji’s hands and pinning him down with his weight.

There’s a spark between them.

Lan Wangji pants, but he does not struggle.

And Wei Wuxian looks at him with such intensity that for a moment Lan Wangji thinks that he will rip his robes open and take him here in the dirt, under the open sky of the Burial Mounds. It makes him afraid and excited at the same time.

Instead, Wei Wuxian stands and pulls Lan Wangji up, and keeping a firm hold on Lan Wangji’s wrist he wordlessly leads him back inside, not stopping to put the swords back on the rack or dust off their robes. Lan Wangji recognizes their path as leading back to the bedroom and feels a frisson of excitement. He wants it like Wei Wuxian wants it. He is lightheaded from physical exertion, desire, and a not yet fully understood realisation that Wei Wuxian accepts him as a sword cultivator.

They are almost there when they are found and stopped by Wen Qing who pointedly ignores the state of them and announces that the Yiling Patriarch is urgently needed, because there has been an altercation with the Wen at the northern border. Wei Wuxian looks back at Lan Wangji with regret.

Lan Wangji nods and Wei Wuxian brings the hand he’s holding to his lips. And then he releases his hold and follows Wen Qing towards his duty as the sect leader.

“We will spar again,” he throws over his shoulder.

Lan Wangji stands in the corridor for some time, just breathing, to calm himself down. He dusts off his overrobe, as much as possible anyway, and returns to his rooms, where he asks Junyu to draw him a bath.

Submerged in the fragrant water, he feels the urge to bring himself to completion with his fingers, to take the edge off, but he cannot do it with the other Lan there.

Wei Wuxian does not call for him that night.

*

        During the welcome of the Lan delegation, Lan Wangji stands next to Wei Wuxian and keeps his eyes firmly on the ground. Not a hair out of place, a picture of perfect, demure omega.

        He is aware that it will not fool his brother who has seen Lan Wangji both glare at people and employ propriety whenever it suited him. Mostly when he tried to avoid social situations. Now though he stares at the hem of his fancy robes, because he is afraid that if he sees his brother he will not be able to control his expression.

        Already the sound of Lan Xichen’s voice is almost too much.

        Polite greetings are exchanged and the Lan delegation is whisked away to the guest rooms to refresh themselves and Lan Wangji goes with Wen Qionglin in another direction, to the infirmary. There they are given a list of tasks by Wen Qing, while the Lan and the representation of the Yiling Wei proceed with gift exchange and setting up the agenda.

Sorting herbs takes Lan Wangji’s mind off his upcoming meeting with Xichen rather beautifully, because he knows little about plants and so it requires concentration from him. He is almost in a meditative state when a servant comes to fetch him.

The room chosen for Lan Wangji’s meeting with Lan Xichen is bright and airy, not an easy thing to find in the Burial Mounds. Most of the light comes from the high windows, but there are a couple of light talismans affixed to the walls giving off warm white light. All the furniture is made from the same red tinted wood.

Lan Wangji sits on a cushion, adjusts his sleeves, and waits.

He does not have to wait long. Before he manages to get tense with anticipation again, the door opens and in steps a servant girl, followed by Xichen. She bows to Lan Wangji, then to Lan Xichen, reminds them at what time Xichen is supposed to meet with the Patriarch and the Yiling Wei elders for the first round of negotiations, and departs.

Lan Wangji stands up, takes a step towards his brother and freezes. For a few moments they just look at each other. Xichen looks… not older, more mature maybe. There is a subtle shadow over his face, a quiet pain in his eyes.

“Wangji.”

It’s more a sob than a name.

And then Xichen crosses the distance between them and pulls Lan Wangji into an embrace.

Lan Wangji puts his arms around his brother, a little hesitantly. He is enveloped by his scent and breathes it in greedily.

“Brother. You are here.”

“Of course I’m here, how could I not be. Ever since that day I…”

Lan Xichen pauses and moves away a little, so that he can look properly at Lan Wangji. His eyes are drawn to the mating bite on Wangji’s neck.

“We have failed you. We should have protected you. You and all the other omegas that were taken that day.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head.

“We all did what we could. Have I not failed as well? I fought and I lost.”

“Wangji!”

“Do not blame yourself, xiongzhang.”

“Very well,” Xichen smiles one of his non-committal smiles. He goes back to looking closely at Lan Wangji, searching.

Lan Wangji lets him. Even if Lan Xinmiao assured his brother that they were all healed from their ordeal with the Wen and treated well, Lan Xichen must have imagined all the terrible scenarios that could have befallen Lan Wangji in the Patriarch’s clutches.

“Let us have tea,” says Lan Wangji when the silence and the scrutiny start to feel uncomfortable.

Xichen follows him to the table and looks on as Lan Wangji busies himself preparing the tea.

“It is a nice room,” he comments idly. “Do you use it often?”

“No, my rooms are in the main family wing.”

“And are they this nice?”

“They are adequate. I would appreciate a chance to decide on the décor myself.”

Which is something he could do if he got a dowry from the Lan sect and married into the Wei sect. Apart from gold and precious objects, books, jewellery, and silks, he would be able to bring items of sentimental value, paintings, decorations, and furniture to his taste. It is common practice that the rooms of married-in spouses mix the styles of two sects.

“It is not simple,” says Lan Xichen.

“The war with the Wen is inevitable.”

“Yes.”

“The Yiling Patriarch would be a valuable ally to have.”

“Ah, the elders are discussing that. And…”

Lan Wangji refrains from saying that there is nothing to discuss. He imagines that there is plenty. What outweighs what? Getting a powerful ally or getting tangled up with an unorthodox sect? Losing Lan Wangji or risking the Lan’s good name?

Lan Xichen presses his lips into a thin like. Like that he looks startlingly like their uncle.

“And how can I not hate him when he took my younger brother from me?”

It is irrelevant, Lan Wangji thinks but does not say. It is not important as Lan Xichen’s first duty is to the sect, to their fallen and to their living.

Lan Wangji gathers his words carefully. Xichen waits patiently and Lan Wangji is reminded that this is the person that knows him best in this world. Except there were things Lan Wangji did not talk with his brother about, topics they were silent around so that they did not misstep on the Lan path. He files that thought away for later.

“The circumstances might have not been ideal, but I am unharmed. And I was always going to serve my sect with my marriage. I am glad the other omegas were returned safely to Cloud Recesses. Xiongzhang, let me just do this one last thing for the Lan.”

“Ah, Wangji, isn’t this the one time, when you should be concerned with your happiness and not duty?”

“What’s done is done,” Lan Wangji responds, turning his head a little so that his mating bite is clearly visible. “Seeing the Wen defeated would make me happy. Seeing all of you safe and the sect thriving would make me happy.”

Now it’s Xichen’s turn to be silent for a moment.

“I had always thought that you would stay in Cloud Recesses. That we would find you a husband who would marry in. And someone… someone quiet perhaps, someone who you would find easy to live with.”

Not a dominant alpha who wields unorthodox powers and is talked about in hushed tones. And Xichen does not even know yet just how much Wei Wuxian talks. This last thought comes to Lan Wangji’s mind unwanted and almost makes him smile. He likes Wei Wuxian talking, engaging with Lan Wangji without forcing him to respond.

Lan Xichen’s emotions are clearly in turmoil. The best thing for Lan Wangji now is to be wedded, he belongs to the Yiling Wei anyway, and marriage would give him protection and the Lan a certain amount of influence on how Lan Wangji is treated, and Xichen understands it, but he has not accepted it yet.

“Wen Xu took Bichen. The Yiling Patriarch promised to retrieve it for me. I am being treated with respect.”

“And he wants you to convince me. About the alliance.”

“He is a sect leader. He does what he believes best for his people and the Wen are a danger to us all. The Yiling Wei defenses are strong, but the Wen continue to try them. I believe the alliance is the best way forward as well. It is…he is not a monster from bedtime stories, brother, he is a man.”

Or perhaps he is a monster. Lan Wangji still has not seen any of the unorthodox cultivation, except for the defensive barrier around the Burial Mounds. He has seen other monsters though and they must be stopped.

“I will try to remember that, didi,” Lan Xichen sounds tired. He overworked himself, Lan Wangji realises.

“Brother, tell me about Cloud Recesses. I know very little. How bad was the fire?”

Lan Xichen obliges him. The library was burned. The dining hall. The guest disciples’ quarters. The Mingshi is still standing, but they have to repair its roof. They managed to stop the fire from spreading to the private residences. The children were all evacuated safely.

And then Lan Xichen recites a list of names. All those they lost. So many. Anger and grief overcome Lan Wangji. He has known them all his life. Some of them were his peers. Some his teachers.

Xichen, seeing his distress, steers the conversation to different topics. First, rebuilding efforts. Then, pointed questions about Lan Wangji’s life in the Burial Mounds.

Before long, a young disciple comes to fetch Lan zhongzhu and guide him to the meeting hall. After he delivers that message he steps out, so that the Lan brothers can say their goodbyes.

Xichen seems reluctant to leave, as if he fears that he will not see Lan Wangji again. He seems ready to grab Lan Wangji and make a run for it. He does not. Lan Wangji promises to see him before the Lan delegation leaves.

Lan Wangji is unsettled after their conversation and does not fully understand why. He should return to his rooms, but instead his feet guide him to Wei Wuxian’s bedroom. He has not been here without Wei Wuxian before and it feels a little illicit.

And his actions are wholly undignified.

He climbs onto the bed, lays down, and smushes his face into the pillow. There are both of their scents on it, intermingled, comforting. He wishes he could stay here and hide from the world.

This is how Wei Wuxian finds him, maybe a shichen later.

“Ah, Lan Wangji, we are taking a short break.”

“Mn.”

“How did it go with your brother?”

Lan Wangji does not turn to face Wei Wuxian.

“I have missed him. He… struggles with the situation,” he says to the wall.

The bed dips and Lan Wangji stiffens. Does Wei Wuxian want to…? So far that is how they spent their shared time here, on sex and sleep.

“It’s too soon to say anything on my side of things,” the alpha says, so, so close. “I still count it as a good sign that they are here and willing to talk. Your brother seems like he might drive a hard bargain.”

That does not sound like Xichen, who prioritises harmony and compromise, but Lan Wangji’s understanding of him is shifting. He hums.

“Ah, you should be glad, he should fight for you.”

Wei Wuxian lays down behind Lan Wangji and spoons him. He does not do anything else, just breathes in the omega’s scent, and Lan Wangji gradually relaxes. It’s nice. To give and receive comfort like that. Wei Wuxian will have to leave shortly, but for now, it’s nice.

*

Lan Wangji meets with his brother again, a couple of times actually.

“Ay, I swear, your brother is easier to negotiate with after he sees you,” insists Wei Wuxian. “When he sees that you are as right as rain, and not, I don’t know, turned into a fierce corpse, he seems less inclined to put his sword through my guts. Drink as much tea as you like!”

After seven days the Lan leave with an alliance treaty, a signed copy of a betrothal contract, and an auspicious date set for a wedding.

Lan Wangji wishes they could just take the three bows and be done with the whole wedding business. They have been mated for long enough that the bite scarred and healed completely. He sleeps in the Yiling Patriarch’s bed more than in his own. The wedding is supposed to be small, with only the Wei, the Lan, and some chosen representatives of allied minor sects in attendance.

Unfortunately, Lan Xichen has decided that it will be the grandest small ceremony ever. Whenever Lan Wangji writes him a letter, he tries to include a paragraph or two about frugality and moderation, but is squarely ignored. He is allowed to write letters now and sends them using an ingenious talisman that is apparently the Yiling Patriarch’s invention that allows the letter to reach Gusu within a few hours.

Another victim of the wedding fever is, somewhat surprisingly, Wen Qionglin. Until now Lan Wangji has believed that Wen Qionglin is a sensible young man, but apparently not. And his being close with the Yiling Patriarch means he has way too much power regarding the preparations.

Xichan and Wen Qionglin start a correspondence and apparently for a while they are locked in a feud over how many yards of red silk is required for Lan Wangji’s wedding robes.

Wei Wuxian escapes the insanity by throwing himself into war preparations. Lan Wangji aches to help there, but it would not be proper. He has an inkling that Wei Wuxian would not care about that, he still has the Lan name and his current status – no longer a disgraced omega, not yet a sect leader’s husband – to think of though.

Luckily, Lan Wangji has his own tasks. He oversees the renovation of his new rooms that are directly next to Wei Wuxian’s. He also meets some important members of the Wei sect that he has been kept from previously. Now that he is officially promised to Wei Wuxian, they want to get to know him and test him for his future position. He does not think that he manages to endear himself to all of them, not with his personality, but at least his knowledge about sect management and furen duties is impeccable. Although apparently, in the Wei sect all that comes with a side of “and your sect lands are haunted and will occasionally try to kill you.”

Any spare time he finds, Lan Wangji spends in Wei Wuxian’s training courtyard. As always, sword training settles his body and his mind. And when Wei Wuxian has time to duel with him again? He will be ready.

*

The wedding ceremony is beautiful. Lan Wangji’s breath catches when he straightens from the third bow and looks into Wei Wuxian’s eyes, shining with warmth.

Lan Xichen dabs his eyes with his sleeve.

The wedding feast is loud and joyous, and Lan Wangji looks on with some amusement how a small number of the Lan try to outdo the Wei in merrymaking, while others try to retain decorum.

Soon Lan Wangji is led away to his new chambers. Wen Qionglin and Hao Junyu help him remove all the wedding finery and change into the now familiar, though thoroughly washed, mating robe. Now it does not feel tantalising at all, in fact it’s really comfortable.

The other omegas leave and Lan Wangji brushes his teeth, washes his face, and braids his hair. He should wait for his husband on the edge of the bed, but he is not a nervous virginal groom and who knows how long Wei Wuxian will be at the feast. So after waiting for a bit, he just lies down and pulls one of the red silk sheets over his bare legs. He can wait like that.

For a while he has a sense of wrongness, but then he realises that it is because they have not yet laid together in his new bed. It does not smell like either of them.

Lan Wangji is pleased with his new chambers. Not only do they reflect his place in the sect, are spacious and even have a small balcony, but he also managed to secure a few things from Gusu that reflect his character and his sense of beauty. There are two empty frames on the wall, waiting for the silk paintings that Lan Xichen promised to paint for him. One of the Cloud Recesses mountain and the other of the Jingshi with gentians in full bloom.

Lan Wangji is dozing off, when Wei Wuxian tumbles into the room. Lan Wangji turns his head to look at him.

“Husband!” Wei Wuxian shouts and then shushes himself. He comes towards the bed, leaving pieces of clothing in his wake. Then stops dead, because copious amounts of wine and removing hair ornaments do not go well together. Lan Wangji leaves the bed and goes to help him before he starts pulling in earnest.

“Ah, that’s better,” sighs Wei Wuxian. “How can omegas handle this much weight on their heads? Well, not you, you don’t wear many ornaments, but others?”

“Do not speak of other omegas.”

Lan Wangji leads him to bed.

“Oh, oh! It’s not... husbandly… of me to speak of others! I will speak only about my husband. You have a cute nose, husband.”

“And you are drunk,” Lan Wangji replies, both irked and baffled by the compliment. That causes a fit of giggles.

“But tomorrow, tomorrow I will be sober and your nose will still be cute!” announces Wei Wuxian with great conviction. Then he pulls Lan Wangji against him, presses his nose into Lan Wangji’s neck and falls asleep.

Lan Wangji is glad that this is not his actual mating night. He pulls the covers over both of them, as much as he manages to reach with Wei Wuxian’s octopus grip on him, and waves his hand to extinguish the candles.

Then he relaxes. With Wei Wuxian in it, his bed smells right.

“Goodnight, husband.”

*

        There is a war conference in which Lan Wangji, as an omega, does not participate. Wei Wuxian comes back complaining about annoying cultivators throwing around wild ideas about military strategy.

        Something has shifted between them, not after the wedding, but earlier. Lan Wangji thinks it was after their spar. Wei Wuxian is no longer keeping himself from Lan Wangji.

*

They do not argue about Lan Wangji joining the war effort.

        “Would you deny me going when Qishan Wen burned my natal home and killed my people?” asks Lan Wangji.

        Wei Wuxian thinks it over, worrying his lower lip between his teeth in a way that Lan Wangji finds unfairly distracting.

        “You cannot be on the battlefields,” he says finally. “Having you there would be my vulnerability. But Wen Qing will be setting up our part of the field hospital. You can join her and her healers.”

        If Wei Wuxian argues about it with Wen Qing, Lan Wangji does not hear about it.

        On the morning they leave the Burial Mounds, Wei Wuxian presents Lan Wangji with a sword. It is not Bichen, but it’s a fine piece.

        “I wouldn’t want you defenceless,” he says.

        At first Lan Wangji is only allowed to help with laundry and mix simple poultices under supervision. Once the campaign is in full swing though, it becomes abundantly clear that every pair of hands in the healers’ tent is indispensable. Wen Qing drops her insistence of what is proper for the sect leader’s husband to do, so he starts helping with the patients. He has heard many times that common people are envious of cultivators’ extended lifespans and accelerated healing, but as he sees one horrific wound left by a spiritual weapon after another he thinks that it is not so simple. The Wen do not let anyone forget that they favour fire.

        A lot of alphas brought from the battlefields will never nighthunt again and will suffer the consequences of those wounds until the end of their lives. They will bear scars and phantom pains and repeated infections, they will bear the effects of the war on their minds. That is, if the healers manage to save their lives in the first place.

        Lan Wangji gets used to wearing coarse cottons and linens that can be easily washed and maintained. He gets used to getting the stew that’s always available in the communal kitchen and eating whenever there is a quieter moment. He gets used to sleeping through the night even when he cannot get rid of the smell of blood and death, and the wounded are crying, groaning, and screaming, even with all the painkillers and the sleep potions they are given, even with the musical cultivators playing the calming melodies until their throats ache and fingers bleed.

        To his surprise, he is not the only omega here. There are none among the Lan and the Jin healers, but there is widow Mu who followed her two grandsons and who seems happy to take Lan Wangji under her wing, and there are a couple of nervous Jiang omegas. The Jiang omegas are not healers, just general help, like Lan Wangji. After the Jiang sect massacre, Jiang Wanyin might have had no choice but to bring them. Notably, Jiang Yanli is not here. Madam Jin extended hospitality to her at Koi Tower.

        Lan Wangji rarely sees his husband. Wei Wuxian is always in the vanguard, always where the fighting is the fiercest. He has no reason to come to the field hospital, which is a good thing. Still, he comes sometimes, for a night or two, when there is something he needs to discuss with Wen Qing in person or when he drives himself to exhaustion. He sleeps in Lan Wangji’s bed then, but they talk little and most of the time they are both too tired to do anything. He lets Lan Wangji wash and detangle his hair if there is time and he brings him sweets or fruit that he finds somewhere, because these are not something available in the camp kitchens.

        Often, Wei Wuxian stinks of resentment. The tales of him killing swaths of Wen cultivators in every battle and striking terror in the hearts of others are among the favourite tales retold by the campfires. More demon than man, the cultivators say excitedly. When he is with Lan Wangji though, he is the same as always, even with his ribs more prominent and with the shadows under his eyes. He suffers from nightmares, like so many of them, so Lan Wangji insists on playing Rest and Cleansing for him.

        The campaign is gaining ground.

        Slowly but surely they move closer and closer to the Nightless City. Lan Wangji has to look at the maps to remind himself of their progress, because he feels as though they have been in the field hospital forever and there is no world beyond it.

*

        The news that the Yiling Patriarch has been wounded makes it to the field hospital before the first patients are brought. Lan Wangji finishes rolling up a bandage and excuses himself to go, not run, to Wen Qing’s tent. This is where Wei Wuxian will be brought.

        She must have heard as well and she is waiting with her assistants. She gives Lan Wangji a look but says nothing. The tension in the air is palpable.

        Lan Wangji reminds himself that he has the right to be here. Wei Wuxian is his husband.

        In the end Lan Wangji barely gets a glimpse of him, when Luo Qingyang and another cultivator arrive, carrying Wei Wuxian on a makeshift stretcher. He is unconscious and there is so much blood.

        Wen Qing starts barking orders and they all move into the tent. Lan Wangji makes sure to stay out of the way of the doctors as he watches them remove an arrow from his husband’s back. Luo Qingyang also does not leave. She stands by the entrance with her hand on the pommel of her sword. Lan Wangji has no space to think what it means, not after Wen Qing curses and says that there was poison on the arrowhead.

        “He’s stable,” Wen Qing announces at last. “We need to keep him in an induced sleep, so he can heal, but he’s stable.”

        Luo Qingyang moves from her spot.

        “Everybody but Wen-daifu and Lan Wangji out.”

        “Thank you everybody, please go and see if you can help with other wounded,” Wen Qing softens the other alpha’s order.

        Lan Wangji pulls his eyes from the prone form of Wei Wuxian.

        “Luo Qingyang, how did this happen?”

        “I cannot say for sure, but we’ve been covering him as always, so with where we were and with the placement of the wound… either an enemy cultivator managed to break the line somewhere and circle back or… the arrow was shot by an ally.”

        “You suspect the latter.”

        “It is unlikely that someone would manage that. The line wasn’t broken and one person would have been killed immediately. And there were no places on and around the battlefield where such an archer could conceal themselves for long enough to actually manage a shot.”

        “A traitor then, someone paid by the Wen?”

        “Or someone among the allies happy to see the Yiling Patriarch dead.”

        “That makes no sense, the war is not over yet. Who would try to get rid of an asset like that?”

        “We’re almost at the gates of the Nightless City. If Wei Wuxian is among the sect leaders that bring down Wen Ruohan, if he’s one of the victors of the Sunshot Campaign, then it will cement the Yiling Wei’s place among the sects. More than a wedding to a Lan has.”

        “And that’s enough to endanger the whole campaign? We’re not in the Nightless City yet.”

        “I will investigate, discreetly. Maybe we can trace where the poison came from. It’s not something the archers here use, is it?”

        “No, it’s not. I will note down what I know about it. But that leaves us with the other topic.”

        Both women turn to Lan Wangji.

        “What do we do now?” asks Luo Quingyang. “There is a sect leaders’ meeting at youshi. A briefing after the battle and planning the next steps. I can give my account of the battle, but… Lan Wangji, you’re now the highest ranking member of the Yiling Wei sect present. You’re the spouse of our sect leader. You have to speak for us.”

        Lan Wangji had not expected this. He doesn’t want to leave Wei Wuxian’s bedside, there still can be danger. He inclines his head anyway.

        “Do we withdraw to the Burial Mounds then?” asks Wen Qing. She pauses, then continues. “I’m not eager to show the sects which of our cultivators can use the resentful energy like Wei Wuxian.”

         Ah. Lan Wangji has wondered about it. While Wei Wuxian fights using Chenqing, his feats on the battlefield repeated by the campfires in hushed tones, the other Wei cultivators seemingly use traditional cultivation techniques, only aided by talismans. It does not surprise Lan Wangji that they are not keen on showing their hand.

        Lan Wangji thinks for a moment.

        “We should not withdraw to the Burial Mounds. It would be perceived as a weakness,” he says cautiously. “This is a decision only the Patriarch should make.”

        “Well, he’s not making any decisions for the next few days,” nevertheless Wen Qing looks at Wei Wuxian as if she expected him to tell them what to do.

        “We could… withdraw from the fighting. If there is a traitor or a conspiracy…”

        “Then we request the sects to investigate. And until the culprit is found, we recall our cultivators here. Huh, that’s not a bad idea, Lan Wangji.”

        “We still operate our field hospital, so it’s clear that we don’t withdraw our support. And perhaps some of the couriers continue as they are… this way we will know the situation on the battlefield and we can step in if needed.”

        “Alright, it’s a plan. A-Qing, I ordered my people to keep guard around this tent. I know you don’t love it, but you will have to bear it.”

        Wen Qing sighs.

        “I know it’s necessary. You both need to go and change into formal robes for the sect leaders’ meeting. I’ll handle things on this side.”

        Lan Wangji has worn the formal robes maybe three times since the beginning of the campaign, when he had to participate in celebratory feasts after some bigger victories. Now he digs them out from the chest in his tent. Luckily, the overrobe is made from the thick and heavily embroidered material, so it’s not wrinkled.

        Putting all the layers on and then the elaborate silver guan in place of a simple leather band he favours these days feels like putting on armour. At least it’s how Lan Wangji imagines it. After some deliberation, he straps on his sword as well.

        All eyes are on them when Lan Wangji and Luo Qingyang enter the command tent. This is something Lan Wangji is used to, so he’s unflappable as always as he lets Luo Qingyang lead him to his husband's usual seat.

        Jin Guangshan puffs up to say something, but Nie Mingjue gets there first.

“I’m glad you could join us, Wangji. Captain Luo, welcome. How is the Yiling Patriarch?”

        “The healers are taking care of him. I have been told that he will recover in due time.”

        “That’s good to hear. Please keep us informed about his progress. It is a blow to have such a warrior removed from the battlefield.

        Lan Wangji inclines his head.

        “Very well, let us go over this last battle. We managed to push the Wen back, but the losses…”

        “Chiefeng-zun, if I may…” Lan Wangji interrupts. He does not need to raise his voice, he has had many lessons on how to project his voice in the room.

        “Ah, yes, something you wanted to add, Wangji?”

        It’s clear that Nie Mingjue doesn’t quite know what to do with him and nor do the other sect leaders. If a sect leader is incapacitated, it falls to their spouse to represent them, unless they have an adult alpha heir, so it doesn’t happen often. And even less in a war context.

        “Before we move to other topics, I call on all gathered here to investigate how my husband’s wound came to be. The Yiling Patriarch has been shot with an arrow in the back.”

        Lan Wangji takes a moment to look every sect leader and subordinate in the eye.

        Nie Mingjue looks grim. Xichen looks worried. Some sect leaders look like they don’t get the implications yet, while others like they are ready to get angry.

“Lan Wangji, surely it must have been an accident,” says Jin Guangshan with a patronising smile. “Of course you’re worried, but there’s no need to make it into a thing.”

        “Sect leader Jin, whether it was an accident or there is a traitor among our cultivators, surely it has the merit to look into it. We cannot risk our warriors getting wounded on the battlefield, be it by incompetence or by treachery.”

        “Well said,” comments sect leader Hu.

        But others are still wavering, looking at the leaders of the great sects to support or oppose the investigations. Luo Qingyang is tense at his side. Lan Wangji decides to drive the point home.

        “Until the culprit is apprehended or until the Patriarch regains consciousness and decides otherwise, the Yiling Wei sect will not fight.”

        Now there are shouts or outrage and dismay. Lan Wangji ignores them and after a while Nie Mingjue slams his fist on the table and demands silence.

        “We will of course still take care of the wounded and our cultivators will carry messages. We have no desire to withdraw from the alliance. That is all.”

        “Very well,” says Nie Mingjue, his voice audibly colder than when he first greeted Wangji, but Lan Wangji counts on his distaste for dishonourable behaviour and on his competence as a wartime leader. “We will investigate this incident, you don’t have to worry, Wangji.”

        Lan Wangji bites his tongue so that he does not say it’s not a question of worry. He bows deeply to Nie Mingjue from where he is sitting. He has gotten what he came here for.

        The rest of the meeting is at the same time interesting and tedious. Seconds in command give their account of the battle. Sect leaders do a lot of unnecessary posturing just like at every sect conference Lan Wangji ever attended. He leaves as soon as it is over to avoid any interactions, Luo Qingyang hot on his heels.

        “They will try to see if they can get things from you,” she murmurs.

        “They will be disappointed.”

        Before one incense stick is over, Lan Wangji gets an invitation for tea from his brother.

*

        The tea is lovely. Lan Wangji does not mind the stronger Yiling teas or even the low quality Qishan tea they are drinking in the field hospital, but he is still partial to the exquisite green teas from Gusu.

        What is less lovely is Lan Xichen’s nervous disposition. He keeps rearranging his sleeves and pretending nothing is amiss, as if Lan Wangji does not know him. It is true that their relationship must now be different. Lan Wangji belongs to another sect now and he has different obligations. This is a meeting between brothers, but also between a sect leader of Gusu Lan and a sect leader’s husband of Yiling Wei.

        “Thank you for the tea, xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji says.

        “I’m glad you enjoy it. Uncle sent it over. I believe he wants to join the war camp soon. He will want to see you.”

        Ah. That was unexpected. Lan Wangji has not been in contact with his uncle since he was taken from Gusu.

        “I will be glad to see him,” is what he settles on.

“Yes, of course. Wangji, is this really necessary?”

        Lan Wangji takes a sip from his cup.

        “Is what necessary?”

        “If not for anything else, wouldn’t it be better if Yiling Wei remain fighting for the sake of unity between the sects? We cannot really afford to become divided. I know it must have been shocking to see the Yiling Patriarch… your husband, wounded, but perhaps you could reevaluate this decision.”

        “Is shooting your ally in the back not what’s causing the divide between the sects?”

        “Wangji! It might have been an accident!”

        “If it was, then the investigation will be concluded quickly and Wei cultivators will return to the battlefield. You do not need to worry about it, we will honour what I said in the meeting, xiongzhang.”

Lan Xichen looks like he would like to say something more, but thinks better of it. Perhaps he realises that Lan Wangji is as stubborn as ever about the things important to him.

        Lan Wangji considers telling him about the poison on the arrow, but in the end he says nothing. His brother has a lot of trust in people. It probably helped when Lan Wangji’s betrothal was negotiated, however now Lan Wangji thinks it better to let Luo Qingyang share this information only with cultivators assigned by Nie Mingjue to investigate.

        He wonders if the tea invitation was Lan Xichen’s idea or if someone else suggested it to him.

        They drink the second pot of tea in silence and then just talk about irrelevant things. Like how Lan Wangji is faring in the field hospital and how the Lan needed to relax their dietary rules to fit what’s possible in a war camp.

        Lan Wangji excuses himself and finally, finally returns to his husband’s side.

*

        It feels wrong to see Wei Wuxian so pale and still.

        Lan Wangji just stands and looks at him until Wen Qing tsks and orders someone to fetch him a chair. Then she tsks some more and arranges for a cot to be brought in.

        Lan Wangji bows to her silently and returns his attention to Wei Wuxian.

        The cultivators chosen by Luo Qingyang are stationed outside and all of the healers have a trick or two up their sleeves if there is danger, but Lan Wangji feels that he needs to guard his mate himself.

        “Don’t skip sleep, Lan Wangji, or I’ll stick a needle in you, too,” threatens Wen Qing when she leaves the tent in the evening. Their relationship changed since they have really started working together, but this might be the nicest thing she has ever said to him.

        Only now Lan Wangji lets himself feel all the things he pushed deep down this whole day. The terror he felt when he heard that his mate was injured. The helplessness as he stood back and let the healers do their work, not knowing if Wei Wuxian would live or not. The rising anger as he understood what the location of the wound could mean. As the sect leaders were ready to brush it aside. As his brother thought he could influence Lan Wangji in this.

        The anger is a pervasive feeling. He is even a little angry at himself. If only he had fought at his husband’s side!

        Cautiously, he takes Wei Wuxian’s hand in his.

        Some of the healers say that it helps to talk to the patients, even if they are unconscious. It feels very awkward to Lan Wangji.

        “I am angry with you,” he tells his husband. “For getting hurt. I know I should not be. Luo Qingyang, Wen Qing, and I are trying to get you justice for this, but none of us is the Yiling Patriarch and we can only do so much.”

        Wei Wuxian does not respond. Lan Wangji thinks that his colouring is a little better.

        “I am angry with you because you still owe me that spar. I train with a sword whenever I can. I know it is nowhere near enough, not with how busy we all are here. I am angry with you because you promised to return Bichen to me and if you are… like this, how can you do that? So you need to get better quickly, Wei… Wei Ying.”

        Over the next few days Lan Wangji goes about his duties, discusses the sect matters with Wen Qing, as she seeks his input more often than not, and returns every evening to his husband’s bedside. He tells Wei Wuxian about his day and how the investigation is going. He tells Wei Wuxian that they are preparing for the deciding push, so if he does not heal fast, Lan Wangji will have to cart him to the Nightless City in one of the farmers’ wagons that they are using. He tells Wei Wuxian that there has been an incident where a Wen deserter wounded two washerwomen. There are more of them now, the deserters, so not only do some alpha cultivators guard the hospital now, but Lan Wangji leads drills for the medics. They are cultivators after all, even if they choose healing over the sword path. Many arguments are had around the question of how close to the Nightless City they should bring the healers’ tents once the final siege starts. A very short distance can make the difference between life and death for a wounded person.

        And in the darkest hour of the night, right before he retreats to his cot, Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian that he misses him.

*

        It is in the hour of the owl and the fox that Lan Wangji admits the truth to himself. He cares for Wei Ying. Beyond the feeling of safety and the physical comfort granted by their bond. Beyond Lan Wangji’s obligation towards the husband he’s been tied to in a political marriage.

It has sneaked up on him.

        Even during their... inauspicious beginnings Lan Wangji was not immune to the Yiling Patriarch’s charm. Irked by the alpha’s cockiness, yes. Scared of what his future holds. But still noticing the handsome features, strong body, and bright smile.

        Nor was he immune to the subtle show of care, like when Wei Wuxian paid attention to what foods Lan Wangji liked and how he tried to hold his tongue so as not to make Lan Wangji uncomfortable. He failed mostly, even with Wen Qionglin’s help, but he tried.

        And nor was he immune to his easy acceptance of everything about Lan Wangji. About who he is. It has been intoxicating, after the life of being pressed into an ideal mould to just be and be met with enthusiasm.

        “We’ve got letters from the Burial Mounds today,” he tells Wei Wuxian after he is finished breathing through his realisation. “Wen Qionglin mostly sends well wishes. From himself and also from many people I probably have not met yet. Junyu on the other hand writes in riddles. Either he ate very good cookies and wanted to share that information with me or one of your guards is courting him. Hard to say. He seems happy though, so if it is courting, it must be going well.”

        Lan Wangji holds Wei Wuxian’s hand, just to keep a connection between them, so when Wei Wuxian squeezes his fingers, he immediately looks up.

        A pair of silvery grey eyes looks back at him. Awake. He’s awake!

        “Hello, husband,” croaks Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji jumps up to get him some water, but Wei Wuxian is unwilling to release his hand.

        “Lan Wangji, are you watching over me?”

        “Do not ask silly questions. Wei Wuxian, let go of my hand, I need to get you some water and I need to fetch Wen Qing.”

        “Fine, but will you answer my silly questions later?”

        “Mn.”

        Wen Qing woken up in the middle of the night looks as poised and put together as always. Not a bleary eye or an untucked lock in sight. Lan Wangji is faintly jealous.

        She examines Wei Wuxian and nods with satisfaction.

        “You’re on the mend and fairly quickly for someone who took a poisoned arrow to the back.”

        “Poisoned?!”

        “We will talk about it tomorrow. There’s been quite a few developments. If you want to participate in the siege of the Nightless City, you will let Lan Wangji give you more water and you will go back to sleep like a good patient.”

        “Ah, Wen Qing, you are a cruel woman. How can I sleep now that my curiosity is piqued?”

        “You will manage. Lan Wangji, if anything alarming happens, if he gets a fever or feels nauseous, please come wake me up.”

        “Mn.”

        After Wen Qing departs, Wei Wuxian takes Lan Wangji’s hand.

        “I guess you won’t tell me anything either today.”

        “Doctor’s orders,” says Lan Wangji.

        “Tsh, I knew it would be over for me once the two of you start getting along.”

        “Is it so bad not to worry for a few more hours?”

        “I guess not,” Wei Wuxian’s answer is interrupted by a yawn. “Sleep might be a good idea, actually. I have slept for days and I still can sleep more.”

        Wei Wuxian’s eyelids start to drop.

        Lan Wangji looks at their joined hands and then at his cot. He has to untangle their fingers to go lie down. He feels reluctant to do this.

        “Ah, am I keeping you…?”

        Wei Wuxian tries to take his hand away, but Lan Wangji does not let him. He looks towards his cot again.

        “Or…” Wei Wuxian sounds a bit more awake suddenly. “You can join me in my bed. It’s big enough for two, I think.”

        “Wen Qing…”

        “Wen Qing is not here. Don’t deny your wounded husband, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian tugs at his hand and Lan Wangji gives in.

        Since Wei Wuxian has to lay on his front, they cannot sleep like they are used to, with Wei Wuxian hugging Lan Wangji from behind. Lan Wangji lays down on his side, so that he can look at Wei Wuxian.

        They fall asleep still holding hands.

        And in the morning they get a scolding from Wen-daifu.

*

        Wei Wuxian listens to the circumstances in which he has been wounded and to everything else that happened since then.

        “That’s…I think you made the right decision. Have they found something or are they stalling?”

        “Nie Mingjue’s people traced the source of the poison. Now they are applying pressure. Talking with people and such. We believe the archer is someone from one of the small Jin-affiliated sects,” says Luo Qingyang.

        “But you don’t believe it was an accident?”

        “No, none of the minor sects would gain from removing you… they could however be pressured or bought by someone who would.”

        “Jin Guangshan then.”

        “Yes, and he will never confess to it. If they find him, the archer will take the fall and the sects will not even attempt to investigate further, because even if they reached the same conclusions that we have, they will not risk losing the material support of the Jin sect.”

        “I wouldn’t either. And we’re going to let it happen like that, because we need to participate in the last push. We will need to keep an eye on Jin Guangshan after the war.”

        They sit in morose silence for a while.

        Wei Wuxian is kept in the healers’ tent for three more nights. Each night Lan Wangji sleeps next to him. And on the third night Wei Wuxian is almost back to normal, so they kiss for a while and then when things get heated, they bring each other to completion.

        Lan Wangji tries to clean them both up as best as he can, but when Wen Qing enters the tent the next day, she takes one deep breath, scrunches her nose and proclaims Wei Wuxian healthy enough to relocate to Lan Wangji’s quarters.

        However, Wei Wuxian is still expected to rest, so they are advised, in a pained tone, to make sure their activities are not on the strenuous side.

*

        Three days later the Yiling Patriarch is informed at a sect leaders’ meeting that the culprit has been found. At first the guilty cultivator claims it has been a mistake, an errant arrow. Later he insists that someone made him do it. He is punished with lashes and an expulsion from the sect.

        Throughout the proceedings, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji later, his sect leader is glaring at sect leader Jin, but says nothing to defend his man.

        Ten days after that the siege of the Nightless City begins. Both Lan Wangji and Wen Qing fret about Wei Wuxian’s readiness to go back to the battlefield, but Luo Qingyang promises them that the Wei cultivators now also cover their sect leader’s back and Wei Wuxian gives his word that he will not overexert himself and only do some light fluting.

*

        Lan Wangji and Wen Qing are finishing their patrol of the camp’s vicinity, when a flash of red catches Lan Wangji’s attention. It can’t be, can it? The last news they have is that the Sunshot Campaign is almost at the Fire Palace.

        And yet there is a troop of Wen soldiers flying undisturbed towards the field hospital.

        They do not seem to be fleeing. So either, with their defeat imminent, they have decided to deal a last horrifying blow to the weakest, or they want to capture the hospital and use it as a bargaining chip in surrender negotiations. It is despicable.

        All this flashes through Lan Wangji’s mind as he recognizes who is at the helm. Wen Xu. They will be upon Lan Wangji and Wen Qing in moments, so he turns urgently to the alpha.

        “Wen Qing,” he says quietly. “Go alert the camp.”

        “Lan Wangji, we should both go, I cannot just leave you here.”

        “Yes, you can. I’m a better swordsman than you. And it is Wen Xu. I believe I can stall him.”

        Wen Qing presses her mouth into a thin line.

        “If you end up with so much as a bruise, Wei Wuxian will have my head.”

        “Is this you telling me to be careful?”

        Wen Qing puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

        “Be careful, Lan Wangji.”

        And then she turns and runs.

        Lan Wangji draws his sword.

        The Wen land just as Wen Qing reaches the first tents.

        “Look what we have here,” Wen Xu drawls. “Missed me so much that you are my welcome party? I have to say, I was disappointed when you were snatched from under my nose. And not only that, you went and spread your legs for that Wei scum.”

        Lan Wangji says nothing. Is he afraid of Wen Xu? He cannot tell, he only wants to stop him from reaching the defenceless patients. And if Wen Xu keeps talking, Wen Qing and the rest will have more time to prepare or run.

        “What, not even a word? I can’t mate you now, but I can still bend you over and have my fun. I can still make you my bitch. How’s your leg, Lan Wangji? If you struggle, I can break them both this time.”

        A growl grows in Lan Wangji’s throat.

        “You are not qualified to talk to me.”

        “Still feisty I see. You won’t be when I’m done with you. You will beg me for death.”

        There’s red in Wen Xu’s eyes, they look crazed. The Wen cultivators behind him shuffle uncomfortably. They know it’s over then, the question is only with how much more bloodshed. Lan Wangji would make a valuable hostage, but if he is hurt those involved cannot hope for mercy from the Lan or the Wei.

        Wen Xu seems to remember this, because he barks impatiently at his people:

“Go capture the rest, I will deal with this one.”

        The Wen cultivators are off and Wen Xu roars and attacks Lan Wangji.

        Lan Wangji dodges easily. He tries to counter, but is blocked.

        Wen Xu is fast and vicious.

        Lan Wangji is determined to stop him if it is the last thing he does. He did not manage it the first time, he will do it now.

        There are sounds of fighting coming from the direction of the camp. Fighting, not cries for help or screams of healers getting killed. It fortifies Lan Wangji.

        He parries another blow, though he feels it reverberating along his arm. He feints a move and manages to land a hit on Wen Xu’s forearm.

        Then another. Blood flows.

        The alpha’s rage makes him less precise and easier to avoid.

        If Lan Wangji has to cut him a hundred times till he bleeds out he will do it.

        The fight goes on and Wen Xu is now bleeding from multiple places. He does not try to taunt Lan Wangji any longer. Some clarity returns to his eyes. Wen Xu would not make it this far if he was not both intelligent and vicious.

        As he realises he will not best Lan Wangji, he apparently decides to abandon his people and run.

        He does not succeed.

        Green flames rise roaring from the earth, closing off his escape route. And through them walks with unhurried steps the Yiling Patriarch. The unnatural wind moves his hair and robes, and the resentment, so thick that it has the form of black smoke tendrils, seeps from his robes and curls around his hands and feet. Idly, he fiddles with Chenqing. From behind him monstrous shadows skulk on both sides towards the healers’ camp. This time there is screaming, but Lan Wangji is calm, knowing it’s death taking the Wen cultivators.

        Wen Xu freezes, sword still drawn, and looks between Lan Wangji and the Yiling Patriarch.

        “How dishonourable, attacking the field hospital,” says the Yiling Patriarch and it’s both Wei Ying’s voice and a thousand voices of the dead. “We cannot have this. And trying to run? There is nowhere to run to for you.”

        Wen Xu swallows. He angles towards Lan Wangji.

        “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, are you alright?” asks Wei Ying.

        “Mn.”

        “Aaah, good to hear that. Wen Qing’s message had me worried! Well, what are you waiting for? Finish him. I won’t take your kill!” he sounds cheerful now, even if his voice is still eerie.

        Lan Wangji is so in love.

        “Mn.”

        It is a short fight after that. Wen Xu attacks hoping that he can get past Lan Wangji and escape, but after a few clashes, his rising desperation causes him to make a mistake. He leaves his left side unguarded and Lan Wangji puts a sword through him. And when Wen Xu falls on his knees, Lan Wangji slashes his throat.

        The black smoke dissipates, the green flames die down as if they were never there, and Wei Wuxian runs to Lan Wangji and almost topples them both to the ground. Lan Wangji finds himself being thoroughly kissed. He does not protest.

        When they come up for air, he does, however, ask:

        “Wei Ying, what about the siege?”

        “The siege is won. Nie Mingjue cut off Wen Ruohan’s head. What’s with this guy and heads? Anyway, I don’t think the Wen will have much will for fighting after that. Mianmian is keeping eye on things for us, because that’s when I got the message from Wen Qing and rushed back. Husband, what were you thinking?”

        “Just doing my part.”

        “So, no thinking at all,” Wei Ying teases.

        “Your voice is back to normal.”

        “My voice? Ah, that.”

        “But your hair is unbound.”

        “Uh, yeah, I’ve lost my guan somewhere during the battle. That’s not a cultivation thing.”

        “Mn.”

        “Satisfied with your inspection? Let’s go see Wen Qing then, ask if they need help burying some bodies.”

        The moment they step into the camp, Lan Wangji becomes the centre of attention and receives many hugs. The first and most startling one is from Wen Qing. Then from widow Mu. Then from other healers and assistants he has worked with. The alpha patients that are on their feet do not try to hug him, not with the Yiling Patriarch standing to the side with his arms crossed and looking on, but they do bow to him and cheer.

        The atmosphere is jubilant. It has not yet fully settled in their minds that it is all over, but they celebrate their own small victory.

        Then – a courier brings official news.

        Then – the break for the healers ends, because they start to bring the cultivators wounded during the siege. The Wen had some nasty surprises saved for the very end.

        Lan Wangji shoos his husband away to clean up, eat, and rest. He himself ties up his sleeves and returns to work.

*

        The feast in Nightless City is the last thing they need to participate in before they can go home. The spoils are divided, the peace treaty signed by the new Wen leader whose ties to the previous ruling family are so tenuous that they might as well be completely made up. The Wen are officially no longer one of the Great Sects.

        Those who drink are well into their cups, and there seems to be no end to the toasts. Lan Wangji would rather go to sleep. The Lan sitting across from the Wei look all distinctly glassy eyed.

        “I would like to raise a toast,” a new voice rings out.

        Jin Zixuan. He is here tonight leading the Jin, because Jin Guangshan suffered terrible burns when he triggered one of the Wen traps. No one knows the details, so each time Lan Wangji hears about it the tale gets wilder and wilder. Maybe sect leader Jin tried to break into Wen Ruohan’s harem, maybe not, but the fact is that half of his face and body is burned and he will suffer for quite some time.

        “I would like to raise a glass to the Yiling Patriarch!”

        There were already a dozen toasts to Wei Ying. If they continue like that, Lan Wangji will have to carry the formidable Yiling Patriarch on his back to their assigned sleeping chambers.

        “The victor of Langya and the slayer of Wen Xu! The hero of the Sunshot Campaign!”

        Wei Ying gets on his feet.

        “Thank you, Jin Zixuan. Ay, don’t cheer yet, don’t cheer yet. Your praises humble me, esteemed cultivators. But, it is Lan Wangji who killed Wen Xu, not me. So raise your cups to him. The slayer of Wen Xu! The hero of the Sunshot Campaign!”

        “Lan Wangji! The slayer of Wen Xu! The hero of the Sunshot Campaign!”

*

        The journey back to Yiling is slow and unhurried. Some of the strong, healthy cultivators could have expedited the travel time by using portal talismans, but they have their wounded with them, and horses, and tents, and equipment, and riches from the Nightless City packed into carts, among them plenty of books from their library, and books are heavy. So, slow travel it is.

        Lan Wangji does not mind it. He almost never travelled with the Lan and when he did it was by sword. And during the war one did not pay attention to the scenery among the drudgery. He remembers so little from Qishan landscapes that he is half-convinced that he spent at least some of the walking time sleeping with his eyes open. So now he enjoys the unhurried pace, and staying in the warm and dry inns, and trying different foods.

        Wei Wuxian attempts to entice Lan Wangji to try some spicier dishes, but Lan Wangji knows better. He lets him try though, basking in his attention.

        Wei Wuxian’s attention is on Lan Wangji all the time now. He has never stopped bringing him sweet treats. And his eyes glint dangerously whenever Lan Wangji innocently eats a tanghulu.

        Lan Wangji insists on brushing Wei Wuxian’s hair every evening and every morning. Wei Wuxian’s hair needs a lot of care.

        They have not said anything to each other yet, and it is slightly ridiculous, as they have been married for months now, and mated even longer. They lay in each other’s arms every night and place silencing talismans on the walls for other activities more often than not. Nobody needs to hear Lan Wangji begging for more. And nobody needs to listen to the absolute filth Wei Wuxian says in bed in the hopes of making Lan Wangji blush.

        Wei Wuxian grabs Lan Wangji’s hand and kisses it at least three times a day.

        Lan Wangji almost expects Wen Qing to tell them to cut to the chase, but Wen Qing is busy with her own romance. She and Luo Qingyang are not as discreet as they think they are. Now that he thinks of it, he should have realised that about them the first time Luo Qingyang slipped and used a term of endearment for Wen Qing. But then, they are both alphas and so he was not looking properly.

        There are some other couples around them, some official, some less so. It seems that living in the shadow of death for so long has left everyone with a lust for life.

        Lan Wangji has been reunited with Bichen. He keeps putting his hand on its pommel just to feel the familiar hum of spiritual energy within it. The sword responds every time. He resolves to keep his unnamed sword and hang it in an honorary place on the wall. It served him well and cut down Wen Xu, after all.

        “The air changed, do you feel it? We will see the Burial Mounds soon, if there is no fog,” says Wen Qing one day. She sounds wistful.

        “There is always fog,” replies Luo Qingyang.

        “I’m happy to see the Burial Mounds fog as well,” Wei Wuxian declares.

        “Yeah, because you’re too busy doing sect leader things to patrol with us and be reminded how fun it is to have a fierce corpse or a pissed off ghost jump out on you from that milky, impenetrable fog!”

        “Hey! I’ve been running around in this fog when you still couldn’t hold up your head!”

        “You’re invoking seniority here, really, zhongzhu?”

        Home, thinks Lan Wangji. We will soon be home. This might be the most pleasant aspect of the journey, even if Lan Wangji has yet to settle into his position in the sect properly. Before they were heading into danger and uncertainty. Every day could bring disaster or the death of someone they cared about. Now they are heading towards rest, and celebrations, and loved ones waiting.

        The jianghu is licking its wounds and it will be a while before it will have to pay attention to politics again. First, there will be all the funerals. And after the period of mourning, all the weddings.

        The biggest dangers they face now are breaking a wheel far from the next village or letting Wei Wuxian add spice to the morning congee.

        They are delayed further by an accidental night hunt. Lan Wangji gets to use Bichen and fight in tandem with his husband. After, he presses a surprised Wei Wuxian to a convenient nearby tree and kisses him deeply. This results in some very interesting noises and a pretty blush, so Lan Wangji is very willing to experiment further.

        The last two days of the journey are spent on everyone saying what they will do when they get home. For some, it will be small, trivial things. For others, quite the opposite. One of Wen Qing’s assistants lost her father while they were away. She is going to pray in the ancestral hall and tell him about everything that happened.

        “I’m going to hug Wen Ning for a week, maybe two” Wen Qing says. “I’m sure he’s gotten himself in some trouble when I was away, and you know our parents are too lenient on him, but I don’t care. I’m gonna hug him until he fights me.”

        “But Wen Qing, Wen Ning is a precious baby duck and he can do no wrong!”

        “He would be, if you weren’t encouraging bad behaviour!”

        “Slander! Lan Zhan, do you hear, I’m being slandered!”

        The Burial Mounds barrier and the arch of the gate is now clearly visible. Everyone falls silent. And there is someone waiting in front of it, their features obscured by a white veil.

        Lan Wangji hears Wei Wuxian gasp and turns to him.

        “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, are you ready to meet my mom?”